


History Repeating

by moojuicey



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV), Vampire Diaries - L. J. Smith
Genre: AU after 4x06, Alternate Universe, Bloodplay, Delena, F/M, Minor Character Death, Steferine, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 10:51:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moojuicey/pseuds/moojuicey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding Elena's cure requires a sacrifice from everyone she loves. When she discovers that not all are willing, friends have become foes, and her dead come calling, how will Elena survive? AU after 4X06. No sire bond. Chapter 6 veers much closer to an E rating. [Will update tags with each chapter to avoid character and plot spoilers.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Not mine. Buffyverse references because I just can't help myself. Points if you find them! Also, I'm a Delena 'shipper, but there won't be any Stefan-bashing here. This is mostly in TV series territory, but borrows elements from the books.

_Dear Diary,_  
  
 _I’m so_ sick _of crying. Katherine was right, even if she was a hallucination. That just means she was my own subconscious, I think. The part of me that is tired of hurting and_ hurting _. The part that can hardly admit the temptation to flip the humanity switch. But I can’t do it, Diary._  
  
 _It would be too easy not to feel. Not to hold myself accountable for the things I’ve done. And that’s just not me._  
  
 _Stefan and I broke it off today. About 36 minutes ago, actually. And I cried for every single one of those minutes. For Stefan and for me and for all the things we shared. And for all the infinite number of futures with him that I erased today._  
  
 _Caroline came over to talk about the pageant right after he left, and I couldn’t help it, I needed to tell someone. She thinks I’m being impulsive. But I’m not that girl anymore. The one who was steadfastly loyal to him. Who loved him no matter where he went—and he went some dangerous places. Instead, now I swing backward and forward, from elation to depression, sated to starving, hopelessness to confidence, annoyance and frustration to delight, all without control. And they each come ten times stronger than they used to when I was human._  
  
 _When I’m with Stefan, I feel like… if I don’t control it, or can’t control it, I’m disappointing him. I’m not the same girl, and I feel his disapproval. I feel the pressure to be her._  
  
 _With Damon, I have space to feel… whatever I feel. He lets me be whoever it is I am. Maybe I’m a little scared of her, the woman I’m becoming, the vampire I’ll be._  
  
 _…Okay, maybe a lot scared._  
  
 _But he makes me feel like that’s okay. Like maybe having an eternity to get to know and shape my new self might be okay._  
  
 _He gives me hope._  
  
Elena shuts her diary, and goes to see the other man who always accepts her as she is. She knocks.  
  
“Hey, Jer. Got a sec?”  
  
“Course, ‘Lena,” he says, and shuts his sketch pad. “Come in.”  
  
\---  
  
Caroline knocks out of respect, though she’s sure Stefan heard her coming. The door creaks open. Stefan doesn’t look up.  
  
“What do you want, Caroline?”  
  
“Elena told me what happened.” She pauses there, but he continues emptying his closet into a duffel bag. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
“Nothing to say. She chose.”  
  
“She’s not what you’d call level-headed right now, Stefan.” Caroline sits at the foot of the bed, trying to catch his gaze. “You may be hundreds of years past your transition, but I remember mine like yesterday. She’s overwhelmed with all the heightened sensation, crazy on bloodlust, guilty out of her mind over killing that Hunter—hallucinations or no—and she needs all the support she can get right now. And you’re what, just going to leave her when she needs us most?”  
  
He glares. “I’m sure Damon will be more than willing to give her whatever she needs.”  
  
“I get it, you’re hurting. That doesn’t mean you get to give up.”  
  
“ _Get to_? This is what she wants.”  
  
“Another person she loves dearly leaving her? Somehow I think not.”  
  
“She loves Damon, not me.” He breaks the zipper on the duffel trying to close it.  
  
“Love is not a switch you can flip ‘off’ whenever you feel like it.”  
  
“Car—“  
  
“No, Stefan. She is only weeks past her transition! Give her a chance to figure things out. God, you were willing to stick through how much drama when she was human, but once she’s a vampire, boom, all your patience has left the building?” She stiffens her spine. “Or maybe you really can’t love her now that she’s changed.”  
  
“That’s not fair.”  
  
“That’s exactly what she _will_ think if you leave.”  
  
All the strength melts from his legs, and he sits with a sigh. “How, Care? How do I stay here and watch them together, and not feel like my world ended?”  
  
Her insides warm at the nickname. “You remember that you want her to live. That you would do anything for to be human again. And you remember that you love Damon.” She takes his hand. “And you remember that you have other people here who love you, too.”  
  
“I can’t stay in this house.”  
  
“We’ll figure something out. Meanwhile, I could use your help?”  
  
“With?”  
  
She smiles. “Come on,” she says, and grabs his duffel.  
  
\---  
  
Damon nurses a scotch just past the lunch rush at the Grill. He has Elena on the brain, as usual. He can still feel her hand in his this morning, and the mountain of willpower he had to gather to let it go.  
  
Luckily, Matt interrupts his train of thought. “I found out more about Pastor Young,”  he announces as he sits, busing duties done for now.  
  
“Do tell?”  
  
“I went with Jeremy and April to the occult lecture the other day. She said she recognized Shane. That he gave a lecture at Whitmore last year that she and her dad went to.”  
  
“So, strangers to BFFs in the space of a few months, and all of a sudden the good Pastor is preaching a worse evil on its way and goes all Jim Jones.” Damon downs the last of his shot. “Interesting.” A friendly chat with the professor will be a welcome distraction for the afternoon.  
  
He drinks Alaric’s shot, too.  
  
\---  
  
“Caroline, to what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
“We want to talk about Elena, Klaus,” Caroline replies, fighting not to pull her hand away from his semi-unwelcome gesture of gallantry.  
  
“Ah, yes, how is my Doppelganger doing? Well, my soon-to-be-Doppelganger-once-more?” He waves them inside the manse.  
  
“About that,” Stefan begins. “We’re willing to work with you to get the map to the cure.”  
  
“ _You_ would help _me_? As I recall, you were doing just that until you failed to stop Elena from killing Connor. Also, didn’t I expressly forbid you from sharing information about our Hunter friend and his use? Which naturally leads me to wonder, why shouldn’t I rip you apart where you stand, Ripper, old friend?”  
  
“You need us.”  
  
“I very much doubt that.”  
  
“You know Jeremy is the Hunter who took Connor’s place. He needs to kill vampires in order to develop the mark. We have Jeremy. You have a bunch of half-vampires at your disposal...” Caroline trails off.  
  
“And why should I sacrifice my hybrids—more precious than your entire race—to you two? And you still have to pay out your end of the last bargain, my lovely Caroline...But my creations are my family, after all. Of sorts.” Klaus smiles menacingly.  
  
“Your slaves, you mean,” Caroline spits.  
  
“Yes, well.”  
  
“If we succeed, and Elena is cured, you’d theoretically be able to create as many hybrids as you wanted.” Not that he would ever let that happen, Stefan thinks to himself. But they have few options, and Caroline was right to try Klaus first.  
  
“True.” Klaus pretends to contemplate the partnership. “No, I rather think not. I’d rather seek out each human you care about, one by one, and torture them until you surrender Jeremy to me. I’ll give you two days to produce him, and then I’ll start with that witch of yours.”  
  
\---  
  
“What were you drawing?” Elena asks.  
  
“Oh, nothing important,” Jeremy reassures her. “What’s up?”  
  
“Are you really okay after what happened?”  
  
“I’m really okay, Elena. I know you weren’t yourself. Those hallucinations must have been pretty bad, huh?” He’s genuinely curious, and she feels relief that he seems to have forgiven her.  
  
“It was like an awful, never-ending nightmare. First, I saw Connor all the time, but how he would look right now. Covered in dried blood, rotting, pale-skinned. And the things he said…”  
  
Jeremy takes her hand.  
  
“He was trying to get me to commit suicide. When I wouldn’t listen, it was Katherine instead. Telling me I’m a monster, just like her, that no one would love me.”  
  
She slows and catches her breath.  
  
“But then it wasn’t so bad.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I saw Mom.”  
  
“Was she… how was she?”  
  
“She was perfect. You remember that spring Aunt Jenna visited right after graduating, and she insisted on a picnic in the park for a party, even though it was barely 60 degrees out?”  
  
“And we all got food poisoning because she brought blue cheese that was just cheese that had gone blue.”  
  
“And Mom wore that pretty white shirt that Dad got sick on.”  
  
“But she still insisted the day was perfect somehow.”  
  
“That’s how she was. Beautiful and smiling, and I was so happy to see her. And the things she said… they made sense, Jer. I was supposed to die on that bridge. Twice. But I’m still here. What am I doing?”  
  
“The rules don’t apply to us, didn’t you know?” He smiles. “I was supposed to die lots of times. How many deaths am I up to now? Five? Six? And I’m still kicking. Don’t ask too many questions, Elena.”  
  
She laughs and squeezes his hand. “I’m really glad you’re still alive. Or is it alive again?”  
  
“Whichever. I’m really glad you’re alive, too.”  
  
She thanks him without words, and lets him get back to drawing.  
  
He reopens his sketch book, and his smile fades. He resumes shading in details from his latest nightmare.  
  
\---  
  
“Doctor Atticus Shane.”  
  
“That’s m—oh, Mr. Salvatore, nice to see you again. Pardon the mess.” He reaches out a hand to shake hello, smiling.  
  
Damon takes his hand and a quick inventory of the office, which is still in disarray from the exhibit preparations. “Not at all.”  
  
“What brings you here? Research?” He gestures to a seat.  
  
“Good guess.”  
  
“Anything I can help with, I’m happy to. Always nice to work with another occult scholar, especially one who’s a real believer.”  
  
“Mm. I was thinking maybe we could compare notes sometime. I’ve come across a few witches in the course of my…research, and thought maybe you could shed some light.” Shane nodded, and Damon made casual eye contact. Then he pushed. “I think you should tell me everything you know, and why you’re here, and what your interest is in Bonnie,” he finishes calmly.  
  
“Uh, that would take years, to teach Occult Studies in a non-tenure-track position, and because she’s a brilliant witch,” Shane answers, uncompelled and guarded.  
  
“Damn.”  
  
“Damon, it’s all right. Bonnie told me what you are, and where to find vervain locally. Not that I don’t trust you, but…I don’t trust you.”  
  
“The feeling is mutual.”  
  
“That’s okay,” he laughed. “I’m sure we’ll both come around.”  
  
Damon’s eyes narrow. “Can’t wait,” he replies, and makes his excuses. Bonnie would certainly have plenty to explain about her new confidant.  
  
His phone vibrates. “Speak of the devil…”  
  
 _Meeting at Elena’s. Now._  
  
 _Goodie_ , he taps.  
  
\---  
  
Caroline and Stefan are parking as Damon arrives. She waves and rushes inside, leaving the brothers on the lawn. Stefan seems more reserved than usual.  
  
“Everything all right, little brother?”  
  
Bonnie’s waving them inside from the porch, but Caroline pulls her away with a whispered, “Give them a minute.”  
  
Damon’s eyebrows knit together. “What happened, Stefan?”  
  
“Before you go in, you should know something. Elena and I broke up this morning.” The anger coils off him, and Damon takes a half step back.  
  
“Oh.” He has no idea what he’s supposed to say, and no idea how he feels about the news. But he does suddenly remember her hand in his again, and feels like something inside him has just upended itself and slid very quietly back into place upside down. Or right side up, he can’t tell yet. “Are--” He swallows. “Are you okay? No, that’s. That’s a dumb question. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Stop, Damon. Let’s not pretend this isn’t the happiest moment of your life.”  
  
“I’m glad you have my feelings all worked out for me, Stefan. Yes, I get endless joy from seeing my only brother miserable.”  
  
“Typical,” Stefan chuckles mirthlessly at Damon’s sarcasm, and turns to go inside.  
  
“No! You don’t get to just dump this on me and walk away.” Damon grabs Stefan’s arm, and fails to duck as the other swings and connects with his cheekbone. Any worry Damon has that Stefan flipped his humanity switch evaporates. He’s relieved.  
  
Stefan knows it’s not Damon he’s mad at. If anything, he should be thanking him for being there for Elena, but that’s not how it feels in this moment. And that’s not how the Salvatore brothers relate.  
  
Damon rubs his cheek and waits 30 seconds before following Stefan inside.  
  
“Hey, it’s the whole Scooby gang together again,” Damon quips as he finds a comfortable spot to lean in the kitchen.  
  
“Damon, good, you’re here,” Elena sighs.  
  
He tries his best not to look her in the eye. And fails.  
  
Caroline starts. “We’re here because Stefan and I went to see Klaus. We thought since he was willing to sacrifice one hybrid, he might be willing to do it again to help Jeremy’s mark develop.”  
  
“Let me guess, he said no,” Damon snarks.  
  
“Damon, please.”  
  
Stefan continues the story. “He said no. And then he gave us a two-day deadline to deliver Jeremy.”  
  
“What? No. Not going to happen,” Elena protests. “Klaus goes nowhere near Jeremy.”  
  
“He won’t hurt him. Think about it, Elena. He needs him for the mark, right? To find the cure, Klaus will have to keep Jeremy safe,” Caroline reasons.  
  
“And it’s not like we have a lot of options at this point,” Jeremy says. He’s not happy about it, but no one in this room has ever gotten what they wanted, especially since Klaus has been around. “Hey, Elena, must be a nice change of pace not to be the one Klaus is after for once.”  
  
“That’s not funny, Jer.”  
  
“I thought it was funny,” Damon mumbles. Stefan shoots him a murderous look. He’ll take it—hate is better than apathy.  
  
“What happens if we say no?”  
  
“He threatened Bonnie.”  
  
“I’m not scared of Klaus.”  
  
“You should be, Sabrina. Especially with your mojo fritzing, you’d be defenseless.”  
  
“I’m working on it. I’ll be back to normal soon, thanks to Shane.”  
  
“Yeah, let’s talk about Shane for a minute, _Bon_ nie. You just go around spilling supernatural secrets to anyone now? Hand out vervain like candy? How does that keep any of us safe?”  
  
“He’s not anyone, Damon. And what secrets? I haven’t told him anything.”  
  
“He sure has a lot of inf—”  
  
“Enough!” Caroline shouts. “This is about Jeremy, not whatever is going on with you two. Or you two,”—she points to Stefan and Damon—“or anyone else. To find Elena’s cure, Jeremy needs that mark. That’s what we all want here, right?”  
  
No one argues.  
  
“Good.”  
  
Stefan decides. “I’ll go with them. Klaus will agree to that.”  
  
“No, Stefan, you don’t have—”  
  
“I know, Elena. But this way we can be sure Jeremy is safe. Klaus and I can track vampires faster together, and bring him home to you sooner.” He assumes that Klaus means to track, rather than create new vampires. Either way, it’s better than being here at the moment.  
  
“When, Jeremy? I’m already packed.”  
  
Elena and Damon both swivel.  
  
Elena speaks first, but Stefan looks resolutely elsewhere. “Packed? You were just going to leave?” She laughs to keep the tears from falling in front of everyone, but Damon sees them.  
  
\---  
  
Caroline walks Stefan out, their conversation whispers and glares. Jeremy and Bonnie stand on the porch in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Bonnie breaks it.  
  
“Strange.”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“I feel like you and I are the last men standing. With Elena turned, I mean. She was the last. Just you and me, Jeremy. The only humans left.”  
  
He spreads his fingers, staring at the ink in his skin only he can see.  
  
“Are we, Bonnie? Are we human?”  
  
“More or less,” she sighs.  
  
He nods and climbs the stairs to pack a bag.  
  
\---  
  
In the kitchen, it’s only Damon and Elena left. Their silence is decidedly uncomfortable, broken only by his occasional swig from his hip flask.  
  
Elena reaches for it, and stands two centimeters too close to him. She drinks, wipes her mouth, and swallows hard.  
  
“I heard your conversation outside with Stefan.”  
  
He lifts his eyes to hers, and she feels them boring into her, powerful and unrelenting. She searches them for some clue about where he is, and gets nothing. She speaks in halting rough drafts of sentences, because that’s all she’s capable of after this day.  
  
“I didn’t mean to hurt him.  
  
“Or you. I mean.  
  
“I didn’t _intend_ to hurt anyone.  
  
“But that’s what I do, right?  
  
“I try to keep everyone safe, and I’m just bad at it. They all get hurt.  
  
“Everyone at that table tonight. Matt. April. My parents. Jenna. Alaric. God, Alaric.  
  
“Why can’t we ever be happy, Damon? Any of us?  
  
“Just for a moment, to be safe, and happy, and loved? Is it too much to ask?”  
  
Her tears come then, and Damon’s heart breaks for the third time today. Both of his hands come up to wipe her tear tracks dry before new streams fall.  
  
“No.”  
  
And he presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes.  
  
“But for now, at least we have hope.”


	2. Surrender

  
  
Elena collapses against Damon, and she lets him carry her up the stairs.  
  
Damon's eyes meet Jeremy’s as they pass his room, but neither speak. Damon shuts Elena’s door with his foot.  
  
He lays her down and kneels next to the bed while she catches her breath. Elena catches his hand as it twines through the hair behind her ear. She kisses his palm.  
  
“Sleep well, Elena,” Damon whispers. He returns the kiss on her knuckles, and disappears out the window.  
  
\---  
  
In the morning, Elena and Caroline survey the last of the preparations at Founder’s Hall. Apparently satisfied, they carry their pageant gowns upstairs to the dressing room.  
  
“I can’t believe I have to compete again this year,” Elena remarks. “With everything else happening, the last thing I feel is festive.”  
  
“April Young will win anyway, Mrs. Lockwood already told me, so you only have to fake it for a little while. And then you can drink Prosecco until you do feel festive!”  
  
Caroline beams when Elena’s laughter cuts through the quiet. It feels foreign to them both. When had she laughed last?  
  
And then she remembers—when she fed with Damon.  
  
“Who are you going to bring tonight?” Caroline asks. She carefully sidesteps her real question—will Elena bring Damon? She thinks Elena made a mistake with Stefan, but it’s pointless now that he’s leaving town with Klaus. Again.  
  
“I don’t know. I’m not ready to think about anything with Damon yet, but that conversation will have to happen soon.” Elena can feel the ghost of his thumbs on her cheeks still this morning, and she shivers.  
  
“Jeremy is taking April so he can keep an eye on her for now. And so Klaus can keep an eye on him before they leave tomorrow.” She’s still unhappy about the whole situation. Two men she loves dearly, gone with the vampire she loathes most, for who knows how long.  
  
“What about Matt?” Caroline wonders aloud. “He’d be willing to help.”  
  
“He’s too willing, Caroline. I nearly lost control the last time he led me feed,” she shivers again, but for a different reason. “Damon compelled him to forget, but I still feel awful.”  
  
“Then tell him.”  
  
“He’ll hate me.”  
  
“Wow, did you burn brain cells during your transition? Matt isn’t even capable of hate, let alone for you.”  
  
“I don’t know, Caroline.”  
  
She ignores Elena and pulls out her cell.  
  
“Matt, it’s Caroline. Could you do me a favor? It’s a long story, but Elena needs an escort for the pageant later.” She pauses. “Thanks, you’re a life-saver.  
  
“Done.”  
  
Elena doesn’t feel any better, but she knows Caroline does, so she nods.  
  
\---  
  
Dressed, painted, and coiffed, Caroline and Elena wait for their escorts outside the Hall. Klaus is perfectly on time, and he makes no effort to conceal how delighted he is to see Caroline in such a bold red gown.  
  
“You are a sight for hungry eyes.” Klaus greets her with a wink. “Don’t be too angry with me, love,” he adds, and retrieves a small box from his jacket.  
  
“I asked you not to.”  
  
“I took that under advisement,” he explains, but extends the box anyway. Against her better judgment, Caroline accepts. Inside is a hair comb covered rose-gold flower buds with drips of tiny pearls.  
  
“You forbade me a corsage, but I couldn’t resist getting you flowers.”  
  
Elena adds the comb to Caroline’s updo with a guarded glance toward Klaus, and Caroline takes his hand.  
  
Elena smiles at Matt, not far behind in the arrivals line.  
  
“Thanks for doing this, Matt.”  
  
“Yeah, sure. You look great.”  
  
“So do you. Ready to get this over with?”  
  
He smiles and offers his arm.  
  
\---  
  
Later, with the formalities of the pageant observed, Caroline crowns April and signals for the band to begin. Jeremy waits for April at the bottom of the stage for their dance.  
  
“How are you doing, Elena?” Matt asks when the rest of their tablemates are safely away on the dance floor. “You doing okay with the crowd?” He gestures to his wrist, where he’s unbuttoned his cuff.  
  
“No, Matt. I can’t do that again.”  
  
“I don’t mind.”  
  
“You should.” But she can’t shift her eyes away.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because the last time, I lost control and nearly killed you. Only you don’t remember it.”  
  
He rebuttons, giving himself a second to think. “Did you compel me?”  
  
She shakes her head. “Damon.”  
  
“No wonder he’s been so nice lately. Guess it’s time to go back to drinking vervain, huh?” He smiles at her, unperturbed.  
  
“You’re not mad?”  
  
“I’m glad you told me. And that you didn’t kill me.” He shrugs. “And now that I know, it won’t happen again. I’m not sorry for helping you though, and I hope you’ll tell me if I can in some other way?”  
  
\---  
  
Damon hears her say his name, and eavesdrops on the conversation. Huh, Matt noticed he was being nice. _Eyeroll_. Damon pours himself another bourbon. He meets Elena’s gaze for a moment, but breaks it quickly.  
  
“Damon, how are you?”  
  
“Carol, nice to see you. That was a lovely speech,” he says, though he hadn’t really listened to a word of it.  
  
She nods her thanks.  
  
“No lasting effects from incarceration?” he asks. “Seems like you, Liz, and Meredith have resumed Council business rather handily.” He gestures to the finery of the Founder’s Hall.  
  
“Yes,” she agrees. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to thank you.”  
  
“For?”  
  
“Restoring the Council,” she says meaningfully. “We're all sad that so many others died, but I know it’s what was best for this town. For our families.”  
  
“That’s sweet, Carol, that you think me capable of mass murder and all, but I can’t take credit for _that_ explosion, at least. As I told Liz already.” He leaves her at the bar, speechless.  
  
\---  
  
Klaus corners Caroline as she steps down from her moment on stage. “You can’t avoid me all night, love.”  
  
“I can try.”  
  
“Is that how you repay me for my gifts?”  
  
“Gifts are given freely, Klaus.” She swivels toward him and stops. “You don’t give anything without thinking about what you want in return.”  
  
“Excellent, we’re on the same page then.”  
  
Caroline reaches up for the hair comb. “Fine, here, have it back.”  
  
He grabs her arm quicker than the human eyes in the room would register.  
  
“ _That_ ,” he insists, “was a gift, Caroline.” He lets her arm go, and it falls back to her side. “I meant my hybrid’s life I willingly surrendered to you and Stefan. For which you promised me a _date_. This is a poor excuse for one so far. You haven’t even danced with me yet.” He grins.  
  
She picks up her Old Fashioned and gives up her protest.  
  
\---  
  
Damon’s eyes bore into Elena from across the room, lifting each tiny hair on her exposed skin. It’s not the first time she’s felt him watching, but he’s run out of official Council duties for the night. They are oppositely charged atoms, acutely aware of each other, and if she doesn’t find a distraction soon, they will collide here.  
  
“You absolutely can help, Matt. Dance with me?”  
  
“You got it,” he says, and offers his hand.  
  
Two songs and a glass of champagne later, she pushes him toward April and steals Jeremy for a dance.  
  
“Having a good time?” she asks.  
  
“Yes, for once. Seems like boring old Mystic Falls tonight.”  
  
“I’m glad you got to have this before you leave, Jer.”  
  
“Me too.” He twirls her a few times. She wonders when, exactly, he learned to dance.  
  
“Stefan showed me a few moves earlier when I told him I was coming here with April and didn’t want to make a fool of us both.”  
  
Her mood deflates a little. “Is he at the mansion?”  
  
“Yeah, he offered to stay as collateral to ensure I’ll come back there tonight.”  
  
“You don’t have to do this, Jeremy.”  
  
“Yes, Elena, I do,” Jeremy disagrees, resigned.  
  
“Yes, Elena, he does,” Klaus adds. “May I cut in?”  
  
She glares at him but consents. Jeremy bows overdramatically toward Caroline, who giggles and takes his invitation to dance.  
  
Elena is quickly irritated to find Klaus a decent dance partner.  
  
“Don’t worry, my dear, I will keep your Jeremy safe while we’re away. He’s worthless to me unless he’s alive. I can’t promise anything about Stefan, however.”  
  
“Is that a threat?”  
  
“Not at all,” he says with a malicious grin. “But he does have a tendency to resist my wishes. It’s really in everyone’s best interest that he not interfere any more than he already has. You’d be wise to tighten his leash and remind him as much.”  
  
She resents the leash comment, but stays resolutely silent. He doesn’t need to know that Stefan won’t return her calls.  
  
“Ah, speaking of Salvatores. Don’t look now, love, but you’ve got an admirer,” he says, and gestures for her to look to her left. She doesn’t look, though, because she can feel quite well whose eyes are fixed on her. Klaus grins again. “Thank you for the dance, Elena.”  
  
He spins her back to Matt as the song ends.  
  
“That guy cannot leave town soon enough,” he seethes.  
  
“I need a drink!” she requests. He raises his eyebrows at her and laughs. “Champagne?” she clarifies.  
  
“Okay,” he agrees, and leads her to the bar.  
  
Another two songs later, Matt begs off to the men’s room, and Elena heads to the table to take a breather.  
  
She finds a single red rose and a note.  
  
 _Save me a dance?_  
  
Elena scans the ballroom, but he’s gone. She picks up her clutch purse and the rose, and winds a path through the dance floor to Caroline and Jeremy to say her good-nights.  
  
\---  
  
Damon is captivated as she closes her eyes and dips her nose into the rose petals. He turns to leave before she spots him. They need to talk, but this isn’t the place, just as last night wasn’t the night.  
  
He has one more piece of business before he goes, though.  
  
“Boo.”  
  
Bonnie jumps. “Jesus. What?”  
  
“Aw, not happy to see me?”  
  
“I should put a bell around your neck.”  
  
“Ring, ring,” he mocks.  
  
“What do you need, Damon?”  
  
“I thought we should chat about the brand-new extra-friendly eerily-well-informed neighborhood occult expert.”  
  
“What about him?”  
  
“You said you didn’t tell him I was a vampire.”  
  
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t. He’s practically a stranger still. I think we can trust him though, so if he knows about you and everything going on, maybe he can help us.”  
  
“You just said yourself—he’s. a. stranger,” Damon enunciates. “What in the world would possess you to trust him?”  
  
“He’s helping me reconnect with my power.”  
  
He widens his eyes, a gesture for her continue.  
  
“He uses this hypnosis treatment, and it worked. The first time we tried, I was under for six hours without even feeling it. And two minutes after he brought me out, I lit all his candles with my mind without a second thought. Damon, this is a good thing for me.”  
  
He glares at her.  
  
“Let me get this straight. You let someone you barely know hypnotize you. Which, first of all, shouldn’t even be possible because you’re a fucking powerful witch with powers of mental evasion, et cetera, et cetera, but it worked.”  
  
Bonnie nods warily.  
  
“It worked for six hours.”  
  
And again.  
  
“And you have no way of knowing what you might have done—or said—in those six hours during which you were completely under the control of another person.  
  
“And it didn’t occur to you that that might be the mother of all bad ideas? That he might not be what he says he is?”  
  
“You’re wrong about him.”  
  
“Make. Sure,” he commands.  
  
He rips off his bow tie and sprints home, too furious to feed on the way.  
  
\---  
  
“So, what will it take to repay you?” Caroline asks warily. Knowing Klaus, he’ll never be satisfied.  
  
“Hm.” Klaus keeps their rhythm to the song, thinking. “I could ask for anything, really, couldn’t I? There is one delightful image I can’t seem to shake from memory. Not that I’d want to.” He pulls her in closer to whisper the rest. “Your hair was a lovely mess across your shoulders. Your shirt laying on the grass at your feet. Your lips soft and demanding on mine. Your hands frantic on my chest.”  
  
“Tyler’s lips. Tyler’s chest.”  
  
“All the same, that heat was me and you.” He lets her contemplate that before he continues. “I’d like another kiss before saying goodnight, Caroline. One where you know it’s me, and I can return the favor properly. After all, it’s not as though you’re still with Tyler.”  
  
Caroline nods, unable to correct him, and unsure whether she wants to.  
  
\---  
  
Hours later, Caroline steps into the Lockwood foyer, expecting the worst.  
  
“Did you have fun on your date with Klaus?” Tyler asks, eyeing his girlfriend’s still-quiffed hair.  
  
She rolls her eyes at Tyler’s jealousy. “Are you finished?”  
  
“Did he pull out your chair for you? Fetch you drinks? Walk you to your door? Kiss you goodnight?”  
  
In the living room, Hayley picks up her bottle of vodka and shot glass and makes her exit. She’d rather not watch when their spat turns sexual.  
  
“What choice did we have, Tyler? We needed to play out the break-up scene, and you know it.”  
  
“And I’ll bet you just hated it.”  
  
“You know what, Tyler? I didn’t hate it. He treated me like a lady. Danced with me. Complimented my dress. Told me I was an exceptional woman.” She crosses her arms. “It was pretty much the best date I’ve been on in a long time. I felt like someone actually wanted to be in my company and not just in my bed.”  
  
Caroline hardens her gaze and her posture. How much she enjoyed the night doesn’t say much about Klaus, really, but it says everything about her relationship with Tyler lately.  
  
“Oh, okay. You want me to feed you clichés. And here I thought you wanted me to earn my free will. Next time I’ll be sure to stay Klaus’s little lapdog and think up some sweet words for you instead, Caroline.”  
  
“You did that for yourself as much as for me.”  
  
“I did it for us, and in case you hadn’t noticed, there hasn’t been much time to take you on a ‘date’ what with spending months breaking Klaus’s hold on me, and then getting body-jacked, and now all the pretending-to-fight and actually-fighting and mourning the hybrids and werewolves your friends have been murdering. And yeah, I’ve been distracted with Hayley.”  
  
Caroline scoffs. She’s over the Hayley thing, really, but she’s not so mature that she can just let it be. Tyler ignores her petulance.  
  
“We have a mission. To help them break their sire bonds to Klaus, all of them. But it takes time. Time to convince them, and time to show them how. It’s dangerous, but it will be worth it.”  
  
She sighs melodramatically, but she knows he’s right. If they are ever going to be free of Klaus, they have to take away his army.  
  
“Are you on our side, Care? On my side?”  
  
Their eyes meet and she nods. “Of course I am.”  
  
“Good,” he says, relieved. “Don’t you fall under his spell just after I break out,” he whispers, and folds her up in his arms.  
  
“Are you two done with the Scarlett and Rhett reenactment?” Hayley shouts from the kitchen. “’Cause we have strategizing to do.”  
  
Tyler kisses Caroline, slow and deep, the way he hasn’t since those first few they shared. Since before they knew the name Klaus.  
  
“Can I help?” Caroline asks when he pulls away.  
  
\---  
  
“Dude, you’re like, one of those emo love songs right now,” Jeremy observes. Stefan is lying on his back in bed in jeans and a singlet, unwashed and unshaven. He sits up and rubs his face.  
  
“How was the Gala?”

 _How was your sister?_ is what he means.  
  
“Hardly any bloodshed.”  
  
Stefan’s features shift into concern.  
  
“Kidding. It was fine.”  
  
Jeremy un-tucks his shirt and takes off his shoes. He opens his sketchbook to an unfinished page and picks up a handy piece of charcoal. He doesn’t have to think to remember every last detail.  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
Stefan had silently crept up behind him, and Jeremy starts.  
  
“Just a dream I had,” he replies, and sets down the charcoal.  
  
On the page, Klaus drains a woman with an empty face. Stefan flips through the book, and finds page after page of horror, death, and blood.  
  
Jeremy stops him at one in particular.  
  
A dark bar, bodies and broken glass littered on the floor, and Jeremy and a nameless other with stakes at the ready.  
  
“Honey, I’m home!” Klaus calls. Jeremy flips the book shut and stashes it quietly away before he enters. “Good, you’re together. Now imagine, master Gilbert, that you will never get to travel anywhere else once I’m finished with you.” He pauses. “Mostly because I plan to kill you when you’ve lost your use, but I digress. We can find vampires to kill just about anywhere in the world, and I’m feeling charitable this evening. Where would your little heart like to frolic before I eat it?”  
  
Jeremy takes a deep breath. “How about New Orleans?”  
  
“The Big Easy it is! Pack your bags.”  
  
Stefan wonders just what the littlest Gilbert is up to.  
  
\---  
  
Hayley brings three glasses and a pitcher of beer into the living room. Her brain is already riffling through the options.  
  
“Klaus put Darius in charge of the hybrid packs while he’s gone. It’s no good trying him, he’s too loyal,” Hayley admits.  
  
“We’d better steer clear of the ones who’ve had the most contact with vampires,” Tyler suggests.  
  
“Good point.”  
  
“How many will you be able to convince to break the sire bond?” Caroline asks.  
  
“Hard to say,” Hayley says. “Some of them are more tightly sired than others, and some are just too stubbornly loyal by choice to listen to reason.”  
  
“I think if we could get two or three at first, and ask them to help out, it might spread through whole packs over time. You know, build a resistance movement.”  
  
“Won’t word get back to Klaus about what’s happening?”  
  
Hayley and Tyler share a look. They both know it’s likely he will, and soon. She answers for them. “We have to take that risk.”  
  
“When will you go?” Caroline asks, though she knows the answer already.  
  
“Klaus leaves with Stefan and Jeremy in the morning,” Tyler tells her, and though he doesn’t say the words, she hears the apology.  
  
\---  
  
Elena takes her time walking to the boarding house, holding her skirt in one hand and her heels in the other. She stops on the lawn, suddenly unsure.  
  
Damon knows she’s there, though, and opens the door. “Coming inside?” he asks, and she hesitates. “Come inside, Elena.”  
  
His bow tie lays untied around his neck, and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone. He vibrates with leftover rage and more than a little anticipation. And he’s beautiful to her.  
  
Her hair is falling out of its elegant twist, and her toes carry a bit of grass and mud onto the wood floor when she enters. Her shoulders relax when he takes her shoes and sets them down. And she’s gorgeous to him.  
  
“We need to talk, Damon.”  
  
“We will,” he assents. “Will you dance with me first?” Damon had been drinking Four Roses and listening to a Sarah Vaughan record when she got there. He leads her over to the fireplace so her feet will dry, and takes her in his arms.  
  
They dance quietly for a moment, and he tucks their hands together close to his chest. She seems to make a decision, and melts into him infinitesimally.  
  
“I feel different, Damon.”  
  
“You are different.”  
  
“I’m not that girl anymore, am I? The one I was only a few weeks ago?”  
  
“You’re just as beautiful as she was. More, even, for all you’ve fought through to get here.”  
  
“I don’t feel very beautiful right now. I just feel lost.” She stops dancing. “But—"

She sighs, as though she's letting something lift from her soul. "But I feel like if anyone can help me find my place again, Damon... It’s you. You know me, don’t you?”  
  
He fixes her with one of those penetrating stares of his. “I do.”  
  
She lifts up on her toes, and his lips meet hers halfway. They don’t linger for long; they don’t need to. They’ve agreed to something, very quietly, and they both recognize it.  
  
He winds his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, and leads her back into their dance.  
  
“I love this music, Damon, what is it?”  
  
“It’s like a crime that you don’t know Sarah Vaughan. Okay, we need to add that to your lessons. First, How to Eat People Without Killing Them 102, then Best Music Throughout the Ages for Dummies. Check,” he says, and dips her without warning as the song ends.  
  
Her laughter is infectious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damon and Elena are dancing to Sarah Vaughan’s Songs in Blue. Which absolutely qualifies as some of the best music ever.
> 
> Elena and Caroline’s gowns are both Elie Saab couture. Caroline wears look 16 from the Spring 2011 collection, and Elena wears look 32 from the Fall 2011 collection.


	3. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any tense slips and comma splices; will fix tomorrow. #brokenrecord Soundtrack for this chapter is The Civil Wars' "Barton Hollow" and The Silent Comedy's "Bartholomew."

Before the sun comes up, Damon runs to Klaus’s mansion because he can’t not say goodbye to Stefan. Elena’s scent sticks to Damon, like it refuses to curl off him.  
  
“Be careful,” Damon asks. “She needs you to come back, and soon.”  
  
“Right, because I’m sure your first thought is for what Elena needs.”  
  
“No, Stefan, _your_ first thought is for her. Mine is for you, whatever else you might think.”  
  
“Gee, I wonder if your behavior for the last 147 years have anything to do with me not believing that.”  
  
“Oh, come on. You know how it works. Love, hate, anger, frustration, loyalty. It all manifests together. You are my _family_ , Stefan.”  
  
“It’s fine, Damon. You got the girl. Stop trying to convince me it doesn’t change things.” Stefan sighs, defeated. “It does.”  
  
Damon seethes. He didn’t come here for a fight, but wouldn’t turn one down if it promised to knock the slightest bit of sense into his baby brother.  
  
“Go away, Damon,” Klaus commands. He barely gives Damon a second look. “Keep my Doppelganger safe in the meanwhile.”  
  
“Tell my sister I’ll check in soon,” Jeremy adds.  
  
“No you won’t. Let’s go.”  
  
One day, Damon will find a way to make rat-face pay for the misery he inflicts. Klaus just grins as they load Stefan’s car.  
  
Damon runs to Elena’s and climbs back into bed, the sun hugging the horizon.  
  
\---  
  
He wakes to find her fingers tracing his eyebrows, and wonders if he’s still dreaming.  
  
“This must be a record for us,” she mumbles.  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
“We’ve spent eight straight hours together without fighting,” she explains.  
  
“To be fair, we were sleeping for most of it,” he reminds her, and nips at the skin of her palm. “I’m not worried. I’m sure we’ll come to blows before the day is much further along.”  
  
“No faith at all.”  
  
“What can I say? I’m a fatalist.”  
  
“So you’ve mentioned. I like to think you’ve changed.”  
  
He stops her fingers. “Maybe a little.”  
  
“So what’s up today?”  
  
“Sunday Funday! First, breakfast.” He wiggles his eyebrows.  
  
“Why do I have a feeling I won’t like your idea of breakfast?”  
  
“Because you’re no fun.”  
  
She punches him in the arm.  
  
“See? I told you it wouldn’t take long before we came to blows.”  
  
“I am so fun! Say it!” She climbs on top of him and wrestles his arms away from her sides to pin him down. The laughter reaches her eyes as they play. “Say I’m fun, Damon Salvatore!”  
  
Elena is carefree for two minutes, and they’re the best two minutes of his very long life to date.  
  
He’s not sure what brings it on, but a shadow crosses her eyes, and he sees the joy leave her.  
  
“What am I—” she starts.  
  
“No, Elena. Stop. You weren’t doing anything wrong.”  
  
“How can I play around like my baby brother wasn’t just kidnapped by a madman to murder people?”  
  
Damon flips her over to reverse their positions. “Look at me.” When she does, he continues. “You are allowed to feel awful and worried for Jeremy.” She tries to pull away, but he grabs her by the chin.  
  
“You’re also allowed to feel footloose _and_ fancy-free,” Damon insists, exasperated. “At the same time if you want, even. One of the benefits of being a vampire is infinite emotional capacity. Right now? You’re feeling things one at a time, and very deeply.”  
  
“Infinite?”  
  
“More or less. It’s okay, we’ll work on it today.” He pulls her out of bed. “Also, we should learn Spanish.”  
  
“Spanish?”  
  
“Yeah. Then, with your emotional delivery, we could audition to be on telenovelas,” he deadpans. “We’d make a killing.”  
  
She smiles at him sadly. He’s trying.  
  
\---  
  
Caroline waits at the Grill’s bar. The last time she was here, she sat in that stool, two from the middle, and let Klaus buy her a martini.  
  
“Hey, Caroline!” April beams at her. “Thanks again for a great party last night!”  
  
“Thank you, Miss Mystic,” Caroline enthuses. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Eh, I got a job.” April shows her the apron. “My first shift starts in a few minutes. I don’t need it I guess, but it’s kind of lonely sitting at home on the weekends.”  
  
Caroline spies Matt a few tables over, busing the table the Campbells just vacated. Following her eye line, April sees him too, and blushes. He finishes and starts toward them.  
  
“Matt is a really good guy,” Caroline whispers to April. “You should totally go for it.”  
  
“Hey, Care. What brings you in?” Matt asks.  
  
“I thought I would surprise my mom with a take-out lunch. Play the dutiful daughter, you know.”  
  
“Cool. Hey, April, I’ll show you where to clock in.”  
  
“Thanks, Matt. See you around, Caroline?”  
  
“Yep. We’ll talk Miss Mystic stuff soon.”  
  
Caroline grabs the to-go boxes and heads home.  
  
\---  
  
Damon flips through records while Elena surveys the store’s used DVDs.  
  
“There won’t always be a convenient frat party to crash when you’re hungry,” he says, quiet enough that the clerk won’t hear.  
  
“So we just feed on anyone who’s vulnerable?”  
  
“Well yeah, that’s the general idea,” he snarks.  
  
“Be serious, Damon.”  
  
“We’re vampires, Elena. No amount of wishing will change that.” He sees her pained expression and adds, “Yet.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“You know, it’s okay to enjoy this a teensy—no? Whatever. Okay. Call him over, ask him something to get his guard down. Feed. Erase.”  
  
She sighs, apprehensive, and nods.  
  
“I’ll be right here.”  
  
“Hey, it’s Chet, right? Can you help me find something?”  
  
“Sure!”  
  
“We were looking for a copy of Dracula,” Damon interjects. “Early Christmas present for Jeremy.”  
  
“Francis Ford Coppola?”  
  
“That’s the one. Right, Elena?”  
  
She recognizes her moment. The clerk turns to her and she makes steady eye contact.  
  
“This won’t hurt, Chet.”  
  
“This won’t hurt.”  
  
“Right. In fact, you might like it a little.”  
  
“Of course I will.”  
  
Elena’s teeth lengthen, and the pressure in her gums loosens with them. She sinks her fangs into the vein in Chet’s wrist, wary of overwhelming herself with the flow from an artery.  
  
What starts as a slow pull tugs at her like a tide. Her whole body slowly numbs, and her mind quiets into a steady rhythm with his heartbeat. Elena’s ears ring, and she pulls harder…  
  
Harder…  
  
And then Damon’s eyes are there, pulling her back, and she somehow tears her mouth away.  
  
“Good,” Damon comments, and draws his thumb over her lip to wipe a spot of Chet off. Not one to waste, he licks it away. Elena follows the movement, transfixed by his mouth. “Now, finish it. Tell him what he missed.”  
  
Elena blinks and comes back to herself.  
  
“You sold us some records. You tripped on a jewel case on the floor. You went to the bathroom to clean up.”  
  
Damon pockets the two records he wanted and takes her hand. “Perfect.” She points to his newly acquired music, looking at him expectantly. He sighs, and leaves a ten-dollar bill on the cash register.  
  
“I don’t think I got enough,” she admits sadly as the bell signals their exit. “I’ll be so glad when I can switch to blood bags.”  
  
“We’ll go again. Find another empty shop. Ish. I’m hungry now too.”  
  
\---  
  
Klaus, taken with the architectural detail of a particular house in the Garden District, murders the one who answers the door when he knocks. "Ah, good," he says as he enters. He gives Jeremy and Stefan, who look almost sick, just enough time to set their bags down in the enormous parlor.  
  
“Let me tell you how this is going to work.”  
  
“See a vampire, slay it. It’s not rocket science,” Jeremy interrupts.  
  
Klaus’s eyes flash dangerously. “Do you want to die?”  
  
“Oh, please, can we stop with the death threats already? We both know you won’t kill me, now or later, unless you find another potential to stop my ass from haunting you for the rest of your existence.”  
  
“There are plenty of things I could do to you that would be nearly as satisfying. I always wondered what would happen to a Hunter who was turned into a vampire. Would he be destined to stake himself?”  
  
Jeremy lunges at Klaus, but Stefan is too quick to allow him to get far.  
  
“Oh, this _will_ be a fun trip.”    
  
\---  
  
There’s no way Jeremy can break away from Klaus and Stefan to go anywhere alone, so he has to find a way to steer them toward the bar he knows is nearby. He taps out a text message to Stefan, hoping he has enough sense to read quickly and erase.  
  
 _Ask to go out for a drink. And follow my lead._  
  
Stefan had had a sense that Jeremy’s choice to come to New Orleans wasn’t just a whim. He narrows his eyes in warning, but Stefan’s willing to let this play out. For now.  
  
“I’m pretty parched from traveling, and I think Jeremy might want some dinner. Should we find a bar?” Stefan says, as nonchalantly as possible.  
  
“Fine. I could use something to eat myself. Something pretty and blonde, perhaps. And then we can get down to business.”  
  
“I thought I saw a cool dive bar up the road,” Jeremy suggests.  
  
In Jeremy’s nightmares, this place looked seedier. Darker, more desolate. But it’s where he’ll find what he needs. And hopefully avoid the horror of how the nightmares always end in this place.  
  
They wind through the small crowd, and Klaus compels three seats open.  
  
“Hullo, darling. Why don’t you sit here with me?” Klaus fixes his stare on the blonde one. “And you, sweetheart, sit there,” he compels the brunette into Stefan’s lap a moment later.  
  
Jeremy rolls his eyes and turns back to the bar. The man he’s looking for is just a few feet away, a towel over his shoulder, pulling a pint. The tattoo, visible only to Jeremy, snakes up his arm in striking grayscale relief.  
  
Jeremy, ignoring the sounds of Klaus pretending to compliment the girl, carefully pushes his sleeves up and nods his head at the bartender.  
  
The Hunter slaps down a coaster, and Jeremy asks for an IPA.  
  
“Hey Stefan, could you guys take that out back? It’s kind of making me sick,” Jeremy says, looking intently at Stefan. The look he gives back clearly says, what are you up to? but he doesn’t dare ask it with Klaus right there.  
  
“Klaus. Come on, not here.” Stefan successfully convinces Klaus to bring his meal out to the empty alleyway, but motions to Jeremy as they exit that he’ll only have a minute or two.  
  
Jeremy nods.  
  
\---  
  
Matt and April share a comfortable silence, wiping down tables at the end of the lunch shift.  
  
“You ready to run screaming yet?” he jokes.  
  
“Oh yeah, the Grill is the scariest part of this town,” she quips back. “My feet hurt, but I think I’ll stick it out.”  
  
He laughs. “Good.”  
  
They fall back into silence, but it’s a bit more awkward this time around. He searches for a topic.  
  
“Hey, if Rebekah doesn’t come back to town soon, I... I could help with investigating the explosion at your dad’s?”  
  
“Really? That’d be great of you, Matt.”  
  
“Yeah, of course. And, well, don’t get mad, but... I kinda already started.”  
  
“Why would I get mad over that?!” She settles into a booth and invites him to sit with her. “What did you find out?”  
  
\---  
  
“You and your perky little ponytail are needed at the other end of the couch,” Damon commands, and picks up one heavy arm. “Let’s clear the living room and make some space to get _sweaty_ ,” he says suggestively.  
  
“I don’t know how you can be so glib,” Elena remarks a few minutes later as they roll up the rug. “Not while Klaus’s got both our brothers off who knows where.”  
  
“Please. Jeremy is tough as nails, especially now that he’s got the whole Buffy the Vampire Slayer mojo working for him. He’ll be fine. And Klaus’s forbidden bromance with Stefan will keep him safe. The only thing we need to worry about,” he assures her, “is thoroughly distracting ourselves until they get back. Which I’m sure will be lickety-split.”  
  
“And if it’s not?”  
  
“Then we’ll go after them. Elena.” Damon grabs her gaze. “Make room for the worry in a corner of your gut somewhere, and leave it alone. It’ll be there if we need it later.”  
  
She nods, and tries to let it be. For now.  
  
“Good. Now,” he says, invoking his best Brad-Pitt-voice, “I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”  
  
She’s agreed to let Damon teach her to spar. Now that she has the strength, she wants the skill to keep people she loves safe. He blocks the first few punches she throws. She ducks a kick, and spins around to his other side at vampire speed. He’s going easy on her, and it makes her angry.  
  
“I’m never going to learn this way, Damon.” She tightens her stance, and attacks. Jab, jab, hook, uppercut. He evades each. On and on, she attacks, he steps just out of reach. His eyes are smiling, and it infuriates her all the more.  
  
“Come on, Elena, bust up my pretty face. You’re not even trying.” When she attacks this time, he engages. He lets her get one or two hits in, and another one or two connect that he doesn’t mean to. She’s impressive.  
  
“Oh, God, you’re bleeding. Here,” she says, and grabs her towel. “I’ll...”  
  
Elena’s eyes turn dark at the smell of the blood on his lip. He stares back; he knows what’s going through her mind. He wants it. Damon takes a step toward her, watching as her fangs descend.  
  
She grabs at his hair, and he reaches for her neck, and they collide. She sucks his lip into her mouth and bites the wound open further. They are tongues and teeth and sweat slipping; all their unresolved anger and tension tether to this moment and dissipate in the time-space between their kisses.  
  
Damon pushes her up against the marble and brick, warm from the fire that’s been burning all afternoon. His hair gets caught in her ring, but he can’t spare more than three-hundredths of a second on it, which consists of him wishing she would pull harder.  
  
“Damon...” she whispers, and God, he wants her to say it louder, in moan form, with his head between her thighs this time. Instead, he tugs her ponytail to the side and sinks into her throat, vicious and desperate.  
  
And there’s the moan he wanted.  
  
Elena’s instinct kicks in, and she rips into his jugular. And she knows what he meant earlier about infinite emotional capacity. She feels hunger and lust and anger and fear and elation and satisfaction, and refuses to choose between them when she realizes she doesn’t have to. The only thing in the world she _has_ to do is hold tight him and _drink_.  
  
\---  
  
“I’m Jeremy.”  
  
“Vaughn.”  
  
Jeremy waits for Stefan to take Klaus out of earshot before signaling it’s okay to talk. Vaughn has enough forethought to turn on the closest tap as well. He fixes his new brother with a cold stare.  
  
“You wanna explain to me why those two out there aren’t dust, friend?”  
  
“It’s complicated, but they’re protecting me. Sort of.”  
  
“Wow, that was... not at all convincing. Why shouldn’t I dust them for you?”  
  
“Trust me when I say, you’d lose that fight,” Jeremy answers.  
  
“They look like every other bloodsucker on the wrong end of my stake.”  
  
“And you’d be wrong. One Hunter is dead already. You want to make it three?”  
  
Vaughn picks up two shot glasses and pours them each a finger of amber-colored liquid. He passes one to Jeremy.  
  
“To family,” he toasts, and tosses it back.  
  
Jeremy mirrors him. He has plenty of lost family to drink to.  
  
“You’re new,” Vaughn observes.  
  
Jeremy nods.  
  
“Then you must be here for answers.”  
  
“I need to know where to find other vampires. And how to make the nightmares stop.”  
  
“The nightmares are your best weapon, kid. They’ll keep you alive in the early days. It’s exactly how you’ll find the fangs. They won’t go away until you finish your mark.”  
  
“And then?”  
  
“And then you won’t need them anymore,” Vaughn answers vaguely. “Now. Take your friends elsewhere. If I see them again, they die. Clear?”  
  
Jeremy nods.  
  
\---  
  
Bonnie is reluctant to confront Shane, but she knows that Damon was right about being too quick to trust him. She does her best to calm her racing pulse, and drops her purse on the battered office chair to announce her arrival.  
  
“Bonnie! You scared me,” Shane says, hand over his heart. “Great timing, I’m just finishing up an op ed piece. Did you see the story _The Sunday Daily_ ran this morning on the exhibit? They didn’t even pretend to be balanced.” He hands her his heavily-highlighted copy.  
  
“‘Although the adoring fangirls in audience seemed taken with his description of a long-ago love triangle, perhaps the only truth to be wrested from a too-lengthy lecture were the words, “or maybe it’s all a bunch of crap”’. Wow, Shane. They don’t like you, do they?”  
  
He doesn’t reply. She isn’t used to seeing him rattled; he’s normally the epitome of easy-going. “You really took this personally, huh?”  
  
He looks at her thoughtfully. “This is my life’s work.”  
  
She reaches across the desk to return the newspaper, and his hand touches hers as he accepts.  
  
 _Power_.  
  
Bonnie’s heart jumps into her throat. She hasn’t had an experience like this since her early days of clairvoyance, but she remembers it clearly. She swallows her fear.  
  
“When my powers first started developing,” she shares, “it started with candles.” She flexes her Power with the tiniest of effort, and lights all the candle wicks in his office.  
  
He stares in awe.  
  
“And then I had fire,” she continues. She flexes again, and his glass of water bursts into flame.  
  
A tiny bit of apprehension creeps into Shane’s features.  
  
“And sometimes, when I would touch objects or people, I would know the truths that they hid.”  
  
Shane comes around the desk to stand in front of her. “You only saw some of it, Bonnie. Don’t judge before you let me show you the rest.” He holds out his hand.  
  
Bonnie steadies herself mentally, and grasps it. In the moment it takes her to inhale, _lifetimes_ of travel and study and vengeance and magic and patience and determination pass. She finds his eyes.  
  
“Silas.”  
  
“Nice to officially meet you, Bonnie Bennett.”


	4. Determination

They’re a tangle on the bare wood floor, though Elena’s not sure how they got there.  
  
Her mind is spinning at speeds she’s never known. She had a glimpse of it the day he let her feed, but this is different. To surrender to it, to him, to give him her blood as well, is bliss. They kiss, and they lick, and she sighs, full of him.   
  
Damon feels her sigh all the way down to his toes. He’s never imagined--well, okay, he’s imagined it plenty--that he would get to share this with her. When she fed from him days ago, he’d stroked her skin, and smelled her hair, and committed every bit of it to his memory, certain he’d never get another chance to feel her, to be in another moment like this.   
  
“We should cool off,” she says, though her hands have other ideas.   
  
“Especially if you’re about to barf all my blood up like last time.”  
  
Her hands, mercifully, stop. “Ew, Damon. Way to ruin the moment.”  
  
“Hey, you asked to cool off. I obliged.”  
  
“Fine,” she says, and sighs again. He loves that sigh, and kisses the spot on her chest where it came from. “Mmmm,” she replies.  
  
“Nope. I’m cooling my jets.”  
  
She whines. “I just...”  
  
“You just what?”  
  
“The bed I shared with Stefan is one floor up and still warm, you know?”  
  
He’s plenty temperate now. The last thing he wants to be reminded of is her tenure in Stefan’s bed.  
  
“No, stop, Damon,” she says, feeling his body tense. “I’m not thinking about him, not like that. He’s not what I want right now. You are.”   
  
“And yet.”  
  
“Yes, and yet. You remember after Georgia? You didn’t compel me because you wanted it to be real.”  
  
He nods.  
  
“Well, I kind of feel like that now,” she explains. “When it happens, I want to know it’s real. I just don’t feel balanced right now. I’m still too all over the place emotionally to be making decisions like whether to sleep with you. No matter how much I want to,” she adds, her voice turning breathy and her teeth sinking back into his flesh.  
  
“Oh, not fair.”  
  
“Who said anything about fair?” she laughs.  
  
\---  
  
 _Dear Diary,_  
  
 _Jeremy is up to something, and I wish I could get two minutes without Klaus to ask him about it. All I can do right now is fnot get in the way of whatever the plan is, but I wish I could help more, make this go faster. I’d do anything to get us home to Elena with a cure sooner._  
  
 _Before she’s too far gone._  
  
 _She has changed. I’ve watched it happen, bit by bit, ever since she woke up on that slab. My Elena is still there, but she’s right, there’s a darkness now, too. One that reminds me too much of my own. Damon is the right person to teach her to control the bloodlust, but the longer she spends drinking human blood at all... I’ll always love her, no matter who she is and what darkness she touches inside herself, but I’d be a fool to think she won’t be forever changed by her time as a vampire._  
  
 _I need my Elena back. My human Elena. And I would do anything to get her back. I will fight for her._   
  
“D’you think it would count if I just staked you, over and over? Technically you wouldn’t die, but it would be really satisfying,” Jeremy says to Klaus.   
  
“Stefan, would you be a dear, and go find something to gag him?”  
  
“Jeremy, just... Don’t make this any more trouble than it already is. We all want the same thing. Find vampires, finish your mark, cure Elena.”   
  
“Yes, where are they, Jeremy? I think if I were you I would start sharing where the nightmares are pointing,” Klaus comments with a knowing smirk. “I’ve been catching up on a little reading.” He tosses the file of papers onto the couch where Jeremy is sitting and they scatter.  
  
“More dancing!” the blonde girl shouts, not losing her rhythm. Klaus had brought the two girls home from the bar earlier when Jeremy hastily hustled them away. And they promptly broke into the mansion’s liquor cabinet and media controls.   
  
Klaus stands up and lures her over with a crooked finger. He fingers her hair. “Perhaps later, love. Right now,” he says, and turns her slowly around so her back is to him. Before Jeremy can look away, Klaus tears into his own wrist and puts it to her mouth. He bites down viciously into her neck, and his eyes never leave Jeremy’s.   
  
She fights for an instant and no longer. Klaus wraps his palm over her jaw and--  
  
 _Snap._   
  
He twists her neck until the bone shatters under his fingers. The screams of her friend cut through the shocked silence. Klaus steps over to her side and gives her the same treatment, though with somewhat less sympathy, if that were possible.  
  
“Klaus, what are you doing?” Stefan demands. Though he’s not entirely surprised.  
  
“Why, look, I’ve found Jeremy two vampires to kill.”  
  
“They were innocent humans, Klaus,” Stefan says, trying his best to ignore the heady scent of blood in the air.  
  
Klaus turns his deadly gaze on Jeremy. “And every time you try to keep secrets from me, every time you fail to deliver me what I want, every time you so much as contemplate deception, more will die.”  
  
Jeremy boils with fury. A stake already in hand, he slams it mercilessly through Klaus’s heart. Klaus shoves him back onto the couch and pulls it out.  
  
“Consider that one on credit, then,” he warns. “Now. Tell me where to find more.”  
  
Jeremy tears a page out of the sketchbook and throws it.  
  
“That’s more like it.”  
  
\---  
  
Bonnie can hardly find the next step in front of her when she climbs out of the car Monday morning.  Elena parks several spots away, but Bonnie knows it will only take her a few steps to catch up. There’s no avoiding it.  
  
“Look, Elena,” she starts, feeling her approach. “I’m just not sure how to be around you right now. Not after that party at Whitmore.”  
  
“I know,” she responds. “I get it. I’m just as disgusted as you are, Bonnie. At what’s inside me, what I’m capable of.”  
  
“You’re one of them now.”  
  
“Is that how it is? Us and them?”  
  
“That’s how it’s always been for me, Elena. Us. And them.”  
  
“And now I’m a _them_? Just like that?”  
  
“Look... I don’t know.” Bonnie stops walking and turns to Elena. “Once upon a time, we were best friends. And I don’t want to give that up. But I’m not going to pretend that every last instinct in me isn’t saying that you’re just one more vampire. I have no idea how to make sense of those two things together.”  
  
“And you think this is easy for me?”  
  
“Of course I don’t.”  
  
“Because it’s not. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t know if I can do it without you in my corner.”  
  
“That’s not fair, Elena.”  
  
“I know it’s not, but Bonnie, please. I’m not the enemy.”  
  
“That girl at the party? The one who was having fun drinking blood? She _is_.”  
  
“I’m not proud of that moment. It was like... rebelling against parents. You know they’re right, and you’re totally wrong, but you have to do it anyway, just to prove to yourself that you’re not under their thumb.”  
  
Elena is working through her own feelings about it organically, coming to conclusions about Stefan--not always comfortable ones--that she hasn’t even realized before now. She’s happy that Bonnie is listening.   
  
“And it feels good for a while, until you realize you’re not making the _right_ decision, you’re just making the one that’s the most _opposite_ of whatever they tell you. And that’s wrong. Bonnie,” she promises, “I want to make the right decisions now.”  
  
Bonnie nods. She doesn’t have any words yet, but she’s willing to try, since Elena is willing to as well.  
  
\---  
  
Caroline, a distance away but within vampire-earshot, deliberately turns away from Bonnie and Elena and goes inside the school.  
  
“What was that?” Bonnie asks.   
  
Elena sighs, and starts back toward the school building. “She’s not speaking to me I guess. Because I broke up with Stefan.”  
  
“Because of Damon?”   
  
“Yes,” Elena replies, and then thinks better of it. “No. Not really. Another one of those right-decisions.”  
  
“Is it?” Bonnie asks.   
  
“I think it is? I love Stefan. I’ve always loved Stefan. But he wishes I were something I’m not, and I feel it every time we’re together. Maybe... maybe if they find the cure, it’ll be different. _I’ll_ be different. But right now...”  
  
“You can’t change just to be what he wants.”  
  
“I have to change to be what _I_ want,” Elena finishes. “Will you help? I know I have no right to ask, but...”  
  
“Of course I will,” Bonnie agrees. “That’s what friends do. Now let’s go get Caroline and get her back on track, too.”  
  
\---  
  
April gestures to the boxes littering her living room floor. “This is all of it. Everything from the church that the police didn’t confiscate, and all of his personal journals that he kept in the study.”  
  
Matt nods. “Okay, why don’t you take a look through the journals, and I’ll try to sort out which of the church stuff might lead us somewhere?”  
  
She agrees, and chooses the most recent journal. “Hey, Matt?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I really appreciate this. It felt... too freaky to go through all this stuff alone, ya know?”  
  
“Well, now we can be freaky together... I swear that came out wrong,” he apologizes, but she’s laughing and he can’t help but smile along.  
  
\---  
  
“Don’t these vampires have any self-respect? Tropes can be fun when they serve a purpose, but this is hardly clever,” Klaus judges, leaning casually against the brick.  
  
Jeremy doesn’t see the humor in the situation. His whole body is tight, poised, ready to stake given the opportunity. The vampire he’s hunting is fewer than five feet from him.   
  
All Klaus notices is the Anne-Rice-approved wardrobe and the faux accent he’d used to lure his delectable prey here to the alleyway. She’d tried to run, but Klaus couldn’t let that happen. She is dead on the cobblestone, and he is waiting for her to wake again.  
  
“Stake him already, Jeremy. We do have a deadline, here.”  
  
“A deadline?” Jeremy’s hesitation allows the vampire time to get in a decent punch. Enraged, Jeremy refocuses. He lifts a foot to the vampire’s midsection, pushes it against the wall next to Klaus, and drives the stake through its chest with perhaps more force than necessary.   
  
“Ugh,” Jeremy comments, his hand covered in vampire blood. He wipes it on Klaus’s sleeve.  
  
“Lovely. Now this one,” he says as the woman wakes up. Jeremy flings a bit of the blood seeping from a wound her way, and then wastes little time removing the stake from the male and shoving it in her heart. He can’t stop Klaus from making them, and the faster this nightmare is over, the faster he can get back to his life. His incredibly fucked-up life.   
  
“Why--” she asks before her skin turns to ash.  
  
Stefan emerges from the bar’s back door. “Tab’s paid. We done here?”  
  
“Yes,” Jeremy answers.  
  
Klaus stops him with a hand on his chest. “The mark?”  
  
Jeremy looks, and has to take his coat off to see how far it’s grown. “A few dozen more.”  
  
“Wonderful. Let’s work quickly. I do have a ladyfriend I would like to get back to before Christmas arrives,” Klaus says, dusting off his unbloodied sleeve.   
  
Stefan leads Jeremy by the arm out of the alley. “I’m sorry,” he says, “that you have to go through this.”  
  
“I’m not,” Jeremy replies.  
  
\---  
  
Bonnie is frying some popcorn on the stove. Still a little put off by the smell of food, Elena sits at the table and pours three glasses of wine while Bonnie shakes the cast iron.   
  
“This was a good idea, Bonnie.”  
  
“What, popcorn?”  
  
“No, this girls’ night thing.”  
  
“Yes,” she replies unequivocally. “This is exactly what we need. Something to remind us what we used to be to each other.”  
  
Caroline knocks on the door politely, but lets herself in. “Hey,” Caroline says as she enters the kitchen. She waits uncomfortably for her friends to reply.  
  
“Come in, Caroline,” Elena says. She turns to Bonnie. “What we will be again,” she insists, looking at each of her friends in turn. “No more secrets, no more avoiding.”  
  
“Whatever is coming, it’s not good. I can’t see it yet, but I can feel it.” Bonnie is scared. “We need to be stronger than ever. United.”  
  
“Agreed. Caroline?”  
  
“I’m in, I promise. I’ve missed you guys. Ooh, popcorn!”  
  
\--   
  
“Okay,” April says, putting the journal down. “This thing is just freaking me out more and more. It’s mostly pretty disorganized, stream-of-consciousness, but then... in the last week before... the entries are more coherent. The stuff he’s saying is totally crazy, but at least I can read it.”  
  
“What’s he say?” Matt asks.  
  
“It’s a lot like what he wrote in the letter to me. Some big evil headed to Mystic Falls, finding the key to stopping it when it gets here, preparing an army to resist it. And...”  
  
“And what?”  
  
“He mentions _you_ , Matt.”  
  
Matt flashes back to the night Elena saved him from Damon outside the farmhouse, and takes a long breath.  
  
“But he’s talking nonsense about vampires, and the Salvatore brothers, and Elena, too? Do you know anything about this?” She searches his eyes.  
  
He has a decision to make. He could play it off as though the Pastor went off the deep end, sure, but somehow it seems wrong to play along and let the memory of her dad tarnish. Plus, there’s no way, if they’re going to keep digging, that she’ll be able to keep herself safe unless she knows the truth.  
  
It’s how he felt, once Liz had helped him figure out what was going on in this town.  
  
“April, there are some things you need to know about Mystic Falls.”  
  
\---  
  
The credits on the movie are just finishing when Elena’s phone buzzes. Damon’s name appears on the screen.  
  
“Damon?”  
  
 _“How was the movie?”_  
  
“Are you spying?”  
  
 _“Depends. Would that be romantic or creepy?”_  
  
“Creepy!” all three women shout together. Elena laughs and takes the empty popcorn bowl into the kitchen.  
  
“What’s up?”  
  
 _“Just checking in.”_  
  
“I’m fine, Damon, you can stop keeping tabs on me like I’m a criminal about to skip bail.”  
  
 _“Is it so wrong to miss you?”_  
  
“After ten hours apart? Yes. And that’s not why you’re here.”  
  
 _“No, I’m here just in case you lose your shit and Caroline can’t stop you.”_  
  
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”  
  
 _“Would you rather I not be here and then something go wrong?”_  
  
Elena sighs. “No. You’re right.”  
  
 _“Alert the authorities! I might fall over. Elena Gilbert acknowledges I’m right.”_  
  
“Ha ha,” she replies sarcastically, but she’s smiling.  
  
 _“Call me later if you want me to come tuck you in,”_ he offers.  
  
“I won’t,” she says, pretending to hold her ground while traitorous goosebumps rise on her arms.  
  
 _“If you say so.”_  
  
“Goodnight, Damon.”  
  
 _“Night, ‘Lena.”_  
  
Caroline is behind her when she ends the call, arms crossed over her chest in defiance. “Everything out on the table, right?” she asks.  
  
Elena doesn’t respond, because she knows what’s coming.  
  
“This thing? With Damon? It’s not going to end well.”  
  
And in the short time Caroline takes to say those ten words, Elena’s hackles are up. Her fangs lengthen slightly, but she tries her best to express it all in words rather than fists, like she did with Rebekah. Elena repeats a mantra in her head, like Damon taught her, channeling all her energy into the words in her mind. _Caroline is your friend. Caroline is your friend._ It doesn’t help much.  
  
“Look, Caroline, I get it. I get that you can’t forgive all the awful things he did to you. I do. But let’s look at your choices for a second.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Klaus, Caroline. This pretend-to-date thing is rapidly turning into reality, and don’t think it’s not completely obvious.”  
  
“I--” Caroline is at a loss for words for a moment.   
  
“Dating Klaus, what? When did this happen?” Bonnie interjects.  
  
Caroline continues. “He’s a class-A jerk sometimes, yes, but--”  
  
“No, he’s the class-A jerk who murdered me. Tormented me. Damon. Bonnie. Stefan. Jeremy. Is currently tormenting Jeremy and Stefan, in fact. And that’s all not to mention the awful way he treats you sometimes. God, Caroline, how do you get to selectively apply your mile-long memory?”  
  
“And Damon’s any better? He killed Jeremy, Elena,” Bonnie adds. “And Vicki, and Mason Lockwood, and how many others? There’s no shortage of people he’s tormented in Mystic Falls.”  
  
“True. But he’s _also_ done a lot of good here. I’m not out to make his apologies for him, God knows that would take decades. But he’s the one looking out for me, helping me through my transition.”  
  
“ _Stefan_ was helping you!” Caroline argues.  
  
“Stefan was helping _himself_ , Caroline,” Elena declares, her voice hard. “Every vampire is different. And while I’m glad he could help you manage your bloodlust so soon after you turned, I didn’t have the self-control you did as a human. I don’t have the self-control you do as a vampire.”  
  
“Stefan isn’t what she needs to get through this,” Bonnie explains.  
  
“Damon _is_ ,” Elena finishes.  
  
Caroline looks defeated. “Fine. But I totally reserve the right to say I told you so when he breaks your heart. In a... loving way?”  
  
\---  
  
They’re another glass of wine in and lounging in Elena’s room.  
  
“So we’ve covered Damon and Klaus. What’s your latest bad decision up to, Bonnie? How’s Shady Shane?” Caroline asks.  
  
“He’s not shady... okay, maybe a little.” Bonnie tries to play the part. She’s not ready to reveal everything, despite the lay-it-all-out refrain from this evening, but she does want to be some kind of open with her friends. “He’s definitely working an angle, but whatever it is, I don’t think it’s bad.”  
  
“And I’m sure that has nothing to do with all the McSexy vibes coming off you right now?” Caroline asks bluntly.  
  
Bonnie looks at her pointedly. “No.”  
  
“So what’s the angle, if not the evil that we’re all worried about?” Elena reminds them of their conversation-in-progress.  
  
“I’m not sure. But for now, I’m going to take his help. I need it, if we’re going to have a fighting chance against whatever is coming.”  
  
“Here, let me refill,” Elena offers, reaching for Bonnie’s wine glass. Their fingers touch briefly as she accepts it, and shock travels through her muscles like electricity.  
  
“What is it?” Caroline asks. “What did you see?”  
  
“I saw... Elena. Only not quite Elena?”  
  
“Katherine?” Elena suggests, suddenly apprehensive.   
  
“No. It wasn’t Katherine. It wasn’t just _one_ Elena either though... I’m sorry, it didn’t make much sense. And I saw a number, unrelated I think. The number five. But...”

“But what, Bonnie? The cryptic is unnecessary,” Caroline nudges.  
  
“I don’t know, the scene is... more granular than usual. I can’t make it out as well. Like it’s behind a screen or a curtain. I can’t see the details of where it’s set.” Bonnie won’t admit it, but it makes her nervous. “I think--” she starts, and hesitates. “I think it’s a vision of the Other Side.”  
  
“I’m on the Other Side?” Elena asks, bewildered.  
  
“Or you will be, soon.”  
  
“But that means...” Caroline concludes aloud. “That means you’re going to die, Elena.”  
  
  



	5. Done and Undone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll go through my betalove tomorrow. Sorry for any missed split infinitives and/or misplaced modifiers, etc, in the meanwhile.

  
Jeremy scrubs the blood out from under his fingernails and tries to ignore the ink as it snakes, unbidden, up his arm. He dries his hands on a set of too-plush towels hanging on the back of the bathroom door.  
  
“You know,” he says to Stefan, who’s failing at being stealthy, “it would be really great if I could have five minutes without one of you breathing down my neck.”  
  
“Just making sure you’re okay. Elena would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”  
  
“I’m peachy. This is the trip to New Orleans I always planned,” he says sarcastically. “Partying on Bourbon Street, meeting some beautiful women, staking them in the heart when an Original _dick_ hell-bent on ruining our lives turns them into vampires. Prowling outside random historic buildings for vampires I’ve been having nightmares about. It’s a dream come true, really.”  
  
“I’m just trying to help, Jeremy. I wish you’d let me.”  
  
“Yeah, sure. I’ll tell you how you can help. Back the hell off.” Jeremy shoves past Stefan.  
  
“Children, children,” Klaus scolds the two men as they descend the ornate staircase.  
  
Jeremy glares at the Original and pulls on his jacket.  
  
“And where do you think you’re going?” Klaus asks.  
  
“For a walk,” he replies.  
  
Klaus stalks up to him. “There’s nowhere you can go where I won’t find you, Jeremy. And if you try to escape, I will take it out on everyone you love. And a few people you only like a little bit.”  
  
“I get it.”  
  
“Marvelous. If you’re not back in an hour, I’ll have one of my hybrids collect Elena. And torture her. Off you go, then.”  
  
Jeremy knows better than to show how pleased he is. He slams the door behind him.  
  
A few beats later, Klaus turns to Stefan and speaks. “Wait a moment, and then follow him.” Stefan nods.  
  
Klaus returns to the couch, where all the Hunter papers are still scattered. And, to Stefan’s horror, Klaus has the book of Jeremy’s nightmare-drawings. The one that contains a bloody scene in a bar down the street, and a stranger fighting vampires alongside Jeremy. Stefan follows quickly after, desperate to reach him before Klaus sees it.  
  
\---  
  
“Either you’re off your game, or this Hunter thing means I can always tell you’re around,” Jeremy says when he’s made it to Prytania Street, a few blocks from the pub.  
  
“Either you’re epically pissed, or you’re up to something. I want to know what it is,” Stefan replies.  
  
“So you can run off to tell Klaus? Think I’ll pass.”  
  
“I’m on your side, Jeremy. Let me help.”  
  
“You can’t help, Stefan,” he says, and turns to the vampire. “You’re the reason all this has happened to us. You’re the problem.”  
  
“You know what? You’re right. Let me help fix it. Let me help find the cure, so Elena can be human again like she’s _meant_ to be. We come up with a plan to get rid of Klaus, and then I’m gone. Damon’s gone. You can all go back to your lives.”  
  
“There’s no going back for me, Stefan.”  
  
“You don’t know that,” Stefan replies.  
  
“Yeah, I do. Listen, give me ten minutes to take care of something,” he says, and starts walking toward the bar.  
  
Stefan recognizes where they are. “What are you doing, Jeremy? Who’s in there?”  
  
“Someone who can help,” Jeremy answers vaguely. “It’s better if you don’t know any more in case Klaus compels you.”  
  
“Jeremy, wait--”  
  
Annoyed, Jeremy reaches for the stake he has stashed. Stefan isn’t expecting it, so he has the upper hand. He shoves it, hard as he can, into Stefan’s stomach.  
  
Stefan doubles over, face contorted in pain and confusion. “What--”  
  
“The next one goes through your heart, and Elena will just have to deal with it. I’ll be back in a bit. Stay here.”  
  
\---  
  
Vaughn is behind the bar again, pouring vodka shots, tattoos--visible and invisible--on full display. He looks up, and his expression darkens.  
  
“They didn’t come with me,” Jeremy assures him. Vaughn pulls Jeremy down to the end of the bar, away from the patrons and their interested looks.  
  
“You’re putting us all in danger by coming here. And by not letting me end them.”  
  
“I know. Look,” Jeremy speaks quickly, trying to convey as much urgency as he can muster. “I can’t tell you everything, I don’t have a lot of time. _You_ don’t, either.”  
  
“Oh, don’t I? That so, kid?”  
  
“Yes. One of the ones I’m with, it’s hard to explain, but there’s no way to kill him. And if he finds out you’re here, he’ll kill you. Or worse.”  
  
“If he does, I’ll take him with me, one way or another,” Vaughn says. The confidence ripples off him, and Jeremy rolls his eyes.  
  
“That’s what I’m saying. You won’t. I’m new to this Hunter thing, but I’m _not_ new to the Klaus thing. I need your help, and it’s also a way to get you far away from him for a while.”  
  
Vaughn snorts. “Klaus? You mean one of them has you convinced of a fairy tale?”  
  
“Fairy tale?”  
  
“Yeah, we’ve all heard the story of the family who calls themselves the Original Vampires, a thousand years old, can’t be killed, whatever. It’s just a story. A story the vampires tell their little baby vamps to keep them in check.”  
  
“It’s not a story,” Jeremy says with as much sincerity as he can muster. He spies Stefan entering the bar with a worried look on his face.  
  
Stefan joins them, ignoring the hateful look coming from the stranger. “And he’s coming,” Stefan warns.  
  
“Now?”  
  
“Yeah. That’s what I was trying to tell you outside. Before you shoved a stake through my stomach.”  
  
“Aw, you mad?” Jeremy taunts him.  
  
“Klaus found your sketchbook. And if he finds what I think he will, he’s on his way here now.”  
  
Jeremy looks frantically around the bar, and realizes where he’s seen this scene before. In several recent nightmares. “Damn. You need to go,” he whispers to Vaughn. He pulls the Gilbert ring off and hands it to him. It won’t work now that he’s supernatural anyway. “Take this and go to Mystic Falls, in Virginia. Find Bonnie Bennett. She’ll tell you everything if you show her this.”  
  
Vaughn looks like he might protest more, but something changes his mind and he slips out the back door.  
  
“I’m not sure that was smart, Jeremy,” Stefan wonders aloud.  
  
“I didn’t have a choice,” Jeremy replies.  
  
Klaus walks into the pub, and finds the nearest waitress. “Do me a favor, darling. Close and lock all the doors, and shut the blinds? I’d be ever so grateful.” He smears his words with unnecessary charm, and the pretty brunette is suddenly weak in the knees for a moment before the compulsion takes effect. She does as she’s bid.  
  
Less courageous humans and vampires would wither under Klaus’s glare.  
  
\---  
  
“Matt, hey,” Elena says as he walks into the Salvatore hearth room.  
  
“Bourbon?” Damon offers.  
  
“Nah, it’s still early for me,” he says with a glance at his watch. Damon shrugs and pours himself one.  
  
“Suit yourself.”  
  
“Listen, guys. I wanted to give you a heads up,” Matt starts, hands in his pockets.  
  
Elena sets down her novel. “What’s going on?”  
  
“I told April.”  
  
“Told April what?” Damon asks.  
  
“Everything,” Matt clarifies.  
  
“Wait, what? Why?” Her eyes wide, questioning, Elena stands and stares at Matt. “Why would you do that, Matt?”  
  
“Because there aren’t enough people meddling. Thanks, QB,” Damon admits.  
  
“Hey,” Matt adds. “Her dad was on the council, she’s a founding family member. And in case you hadn’t noticed, she’s kind of in the middle of all this stuff going on.”  
  
“No! This is _not_ okay, Matt. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your life _or_ _hers_ for this.”  
  
“I’m not sacrificing anything, and neither is she. We both keep falling into this supernatural crap, the best thing is for her to at least be informed so she can protect herself. Aren’t you the one always going on about choice?”  
  
“Endlessly,” Damon answers with an eyeroll.  
  
“It puts her in more danger to know.”  
  
“She’s in danger either way,” Damon says sensibly, and Elena scoffs at him. “Did we learn nothing from the incident with Connor Jordan? And the good Pastor himself?”  
  
Matt ends the non-debate. “It’s done, Elena. And we’re both on vervain, in case you were thinking of compelling us to forget.”  
  
“I wouldn’t--”  
  
“No, you’d make _Damon_ do it.”  
  
“That’s not fair,” Elena protests.  
  
“Isn’t it?” Damon asks. “Much as I hate to admit it, ever, but Matt has a point. You have a terrible track record on this whole ‘choice’ thing. When you want something, you don’t hesitate to make choices for other people. Elena makes all the rules, isn’t that right? Hm, why does that sound so familiar?” He pretends to think hard, snapping his fingers and rubbing his chin.  
  
“I am _not_ Katherine, Damon.” Her voice is low, ominous.  
  
Matt can feel the danger in the air, and slips out of the room quietly. Neither vampire breaks their stare to notice.  
  
\---  
  
“No, Elena, you’re not. But you’re not as different from her as you like to think, either. The only thing she cared about was herself. And you don’t care about yourself at all. But you’re both selfish and stubborn and refuse to let what anyone else might want or need matter to you.”  
  
“Of course I care about myself, that’s ridiculous.”  
  
“How many times have you offered to die, Elena? Or be hurt? You are always the first one to jump at the opportunity to be killed.”  
  
“If it means saving someone I love? Yes.”  
  
“You don’t get to decide whose life is worth more than yours.”  
  
“And what, Damon? You do?” Her muscles are wound and tight, ready to spring her into an attack.  
  
“No, I don’t. But I know for a fact that you are not at the bottom of the pile, as you seem to think.” They’re nearly shouting at each other. “You. Matter. People care about you. They love you.”  
  
“Damon, stop,” Elena demands.  
  
“No, you’re going to listen for once.” Damon takes a breath and replies in a quieter tone. He takes her face in his hands, with more force than usual. “ _I_ love you. And sometimes, I don’t do what you want. But I’m always at least willing to hear it. Consider for one second that you don’t always know what’s best. That what _you_ want isn’t the most important thing.”  
  
“So I matter, but I don’t matter?” Elena pulls away. Her heart is racing, and sweat is beading on her neck. She’s incensed and confused and can’t take much more. “God, you are infuriating.”  
  
“I’ll join the club, then, because you drive me so batshit crazy some days I just want to shake you,” Damon says, miming shaking her.  
  
“Just, shut your mouth,” Elena replies, and shuts it for him with her own. He kisses her back, and they trade heat and a little bit of hate. The kind that she could only feel for someone she loves, too.  
  
She scratches at all the exposed skin she can find, and tugs too hard on his hair; he bites at her lips and tongue, her blood a beautiful tang that stains and stays his anger. Damon grabs at her hands and holds them tight together, stopping this mistake.  
  
Elena’s face changes in the space of a moment, but Damon sees each emotion as it rips through her eyes. Lust, shock, regret. She runs.  
  
\---  
  
“Now then,” Klaus begins with a smile. “You did have some interesting art in your sketchbook, love. When this is all over, we should talk media. I prefer oils, myself, but I do see the draw of charcoal, after seeing your work.” He smiles wider, and sidles up to Jeremy to speak more intimately. “You captured so very much carnage in so few shades of black and gray.”  
  
Jeremy and Stefan are silent. Klaus does like to hear himself talk, but perhaps without a parry partner he’ll make this quicker.  
  
Without looking away from Jeremy, Klaus speaks to Stefan. “I assume you’ve seen it, Stefan.”  
  
“I have.”  
  
“And are you going to be a problem?”  
  
Stefan puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Nope.”  
  
Jeremy’s head swivels. “You’re not going to help me stop him?”  
  
“No. He’s here, Jeremy, and if I know him at all, there’s no way to stop him,” Stefan explains with a shrug. “And when it’s done, your mark will be finished, or close to it, and all this can be over. We can go back to Elena with a cure, once and for all.”  
  
“You’d better hold Jeremy back, then, Stefan, if he means to interfere.” Klaus turns back to Jeremy. “I did warn you, mate. You give me no choice.”  
  
Stefan lays a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. As much as he knows what’s about to happen, for he’s seen it enough the past few nights, he can’t look away.  
  
“Everyone, if I could have your attention,” Klaus announces. The noise quiets, except for the music overhead. A jazz number that he remembers dancing to with Stefan and their respective dinners in the twenties. He lays on the compulsioncharm as thick as ever. “I’m treating everyone in the bar to a drink tonight!”  
  
Amid the cheers, Klaus sinks his fangs into his wrist and offers it to each patron in turn, a bloodstained grin never slipping from his lips. In total, they number more than thirty. He feeds on the first few, and then gets impatient, snapping necks left, then right, and right again. This one gets a fist through the chest, and that one glass shards through the skull.  
  
The wood floor doesn’t have time to soak up the splatters before Klaus finishes. And just as Jeremy knew it would, the bar if a perfect, effortless recreation of his vision. He finally finds the courage to close his eyes for a moment.  
  
Klaus saunters over to the billiards room and retrieves two pool cues.  
  
“Here you go, friends. Wait here and have at. Be back before dawn.”  
  
Stefan stares murderously at Klaus, but takes the cues anyway. Klaus grins again as he exits the pub.  
  
Jeremy goes behind the bar and grabs a bottle of beer. He takes a long swallow from it, and wipes his mouth with a palm.  
  
“You okay?” Stefan asks.  
  
“Nope. You?”  
  
Stefan chuckles mirthlessly.  
  
“Yeah,” Jeremy says. He uses his pocket knife to cut a wrist and fills one of the small cups with his blood. He hands it to Stefan and goes to lock the pub’s front door again. Stefan smears a few drops on the lips of each body, and then they wait.  
  
A little while later, after Jeremy is another beer and a half down, and Stefan has all but emptied what was left of a bottle of single-barrel Four Roses, the first few bodies begin to stir.  
  
Jeremy and Stefan set down their drinks and go to work.  
  
\---  
  
Damon finds Elena in his bathroom, sitting in the soaking tub with her face in her hands. She looks up at him with heartbreak in her eyes and her voice cracks as she speaks.  
  
“Is this just how it always is, Damon? Like standing on the edge of a knife, all the time?”  
  
“No,” he whispers. He clears his throat. “Not always. Not even most of the time. You’re just young.”  
  
“I’m not,” she insists. “I’ve seen more in this life than most. More than I should have, maybe.”  
  
“I’m not saying you haven’t. But you were _just_ turned.” He sits down on the floor to meet her gaze. “This is a different life, with different challenges.” She tries to look away, but he doesn’t let her. “And different opportunities. Elena, you have to let me show you all the unbelievable things you could do and see as a vampire that you would've missed as a human. Then you’ll see the knife-edge for all it is: a small trade-off for the wonder of this life.”  
  
“And what if I don’t have time?”  
  
“Because of the cure? All the more reason, if you’ll be human again soon,” Damon replies.  
  
“No, not the cure. Bonnie had a vision. Where I was on the Other Side. I was dead, Damon.”  
  
“Your life’s in danger? Quelle surprise. Must be Thursday,” he scoffs.  
  
“Not funny.”  
  
“I’m not trying to be funny. But you’ll excuse me if I don’t take every witchy warning without a grain of salt. And besides, it’s not like death ever lasts very long at this party. You think too much.”  
  
She stands up, annoyed. “I thought you cared about my life, Damon.”  
  
“I do, Elena.” He echoes her movement, his eyes flashing with defiance. “I care enough about it that I want you to live it. Instead of sitting in my bathtub, brooding.”  
  
Damon’s phone sings with a message from Bonnie.  
  
 _Need backup. Meet me outside Shane’s office._  
  
“Bonnie needs me for a little while. Think about what I said?” Damon requests. He tucks Elena’s hair behind her ears, but it’s really just an excuse to reconnect, to touch her.  
  
She nods.  
  
\---  
  
“I’m surprised you came back,” Shane says without looking up from grading papers. “But I’m glad you did. If I read one more opening sentence, ‘Since the dawn of time...’ I think I might have gone a little loopy.”  
  
Bonnie fixes him with a stare but doesn’t speak.  
  
Shane laughs. “Bad joke.”  
  
“I know you don’t have any power.”  
  
“True,” he says, and stands to narrow the gap in the door. “Immortality, yes. Power, no.”  
  
“How are you helping me without any?”  
  
“Knowledge is powerful. Not hundred-dead-witches powerful, but it’s something. And the rest is all you, Bonnie.”  
  
“What’s in this for you, Shane?” She can’t bring herself to use his real name again. Not yet. “Why are you helping?”  
  
“Genuine curiosity? A pathological need to know everything supernatural about this place?”  
  
“If you’re hoping to harness my power for yourself somehow, you should know,” she says darkly, “that would be ill-advised.”  
  
His eyes gleam. “You didn’t come here to deliver warnings, Bonnie.”  
  
“My friend, the Hunter everyone’s so interested in, is out risking his life to finish that mark. And I want to be ready when he is. It’s time for you to tell us what you know.”  
  
Damon saunters in, tired of listening from the hallway. “And there’s my cue. Also, immortality? Care to explain that development, Sabrina?”  
  
“That’s why I asked you here, Damon. If we’re going to be one step ahead in this, we need to all be on the same page.”  
  
Shane sighs heavily and wipes his palms on his legs. “I’ll tell you what I can. But not here.”  
  
“Everything. You’ll tell us everything,” Damon clarifies for him.    
  
“Where?” Bonnie asks.  
  
“Elena Gilbert. She’s the one who will have to retrieve what you’re looking for. She’s the one I’ll tell.”  
  
“Oh, this day just gets better and better,” Damon laments. He puts a finger on Shane’s chest. “Don’t think for a second, Nutty Professor, that this means we trust you.”  
  
\---  
  
The Gilbert house is still eerily empty to Elena. She’s managed to get by all week by spending too much time at the boarding house with Damon and doing more homework than she has in a year, but not tonight. School is over for the holiday break, and she can’t help but think about all she’s lost, all the people who aren’t here with her who should be. All the people who are here still, but their relationships forever altered. She broke Stefan’s heart. Caroline hates that Elena didn’t choose Stefan. Bonnie thinks she’s going to die. Jeremy is off slaying vampires and possibly dying to save her. And as usual, her life is in shambles without their support. The only one still fighting for her, by her side, steadfast as ever...  
  
Is Damon.  
  
 _I need him, Diary. He’s the one who’s always been here for me. I love all my family, my friends. I don’t always agree with the calls he makes, and I’ve never fought with anyone the way I do with him, but he’s the only one who loves the way I do. With his whole heart, no reservations. I never had every piece of Stefan--he hid parts of himself away, ashamed of them. But Damon loves every part of me recklessly, like I love him._  
  
 _What am I doing? Waiting? Making him wait? If I am going to die soon, I need to love enough for the rest of my vampire life before that happens. And if my life doesn’t end? I shouldn't ever regret a love like that._  
  
Elena jumps when her phone buzzes. She should have guessed it would be him.  
  
 _Where are you?_  
  
 _Home_ , she taps, and then erases it. _My house._  
  
 _Bringing company._  
  
\---  
  
Damon is surprised when Shane walks through the Gilbert threshold without any trouble.  
  
“I’m not a vampire, Damon,” Shane responds when he expresses that thought aloud.  
  
“Why would you think that?” Elena asks, clearly behind on something.  
  
“Damon overheard us talking about Shane being immortal,” Bonnie supplies, after hugging her friend hello. They all find seats around the dining room table. “Do you want to tell them, or should I?”  
  
“I don’t mind, Bonnie.” Shane takes a breath. “The story I told at the exhibit? Wasn’t any story. It was mine.”  
  
Damon snaps his fingers impatiently. “We’re not getting any younger... or older I guess. Whatever. Get to the point, prof.”  
  
“Fine, I’ll say it as plainly as I can. I’m Silas. I’m immortal, but as Bonnie has so astutely surmised,” he says, shooting her a look of pride, “I don’t have any Power. I did, a long time ago, but that was taken from me by the witch Keziah when she killed her sister and buried me alive.”  
  
“Her sister?” Bonnie asks.  
  
“Yes. Keziah was my friend, but I loved her sister, Keren. She was a witch, like we were, but she was sick. That’s why I wanted to find a way to be immortal. So I could save her, and the child she carried.”  
  
Damon could understand wanting to save the woman he loved well enough. “Then it all went pear-shaped,” he guesses.  
  
Shane nods. “I knew Keziah was in love with me, and I took advantage of her help to become immortal. I had promised we would turn her next, and she went mad with jealousy when she found out I had no plans to immortalize her.”    
  
“So she killed her own sister?” Elena couldn’t imagine the bond of family being so disposable to someone.  
  
“And buried me in a cavern, with a spell to seal it shut. Sound familiar?” Shane looked to Bonnie with laughter on his face. “It held up for a few hundred years, and I’m not sure why the barrier failed, but it did. I found the world a different place when I emerged, and I’ve been fascinated with learning all its secrets ever since, since I’m one of them.”  
  
Damon rolls his eyes. “And we’re just supposed to believe you’re a harmless puppydog?”  
  
“You don’t have to trust me, Damon. But I have the answers you all need.”  
  
“I’m going to need a drink,” Elena surmises. “Especially if you’re about to tell me how I die.”  
  
“Die?” Shane asks.  
  
Elena brings the bottle with her after pouring herself a glass of amaretto. One of the bottles Jenna left behind.  
  
“I had a vision the other night,” Bonnie explains. “I didn’t understand it, but I saw Elena on the Other Side. And the number five.”  
  
Shane’s eyes gleam, and he smiles wide. “I think I can help.”  
  
“Then get on with it, Professor Creepster.”  
  
“The cure you’re searching for, well, it had to be hidden, right? And theoretically it would have had to be the most well-hidden information, potentially ever.”  
  
“Wait, why? If this cure can reverse vampirism, why would that need to be hidden so well?” Elena asks.  
  
Bonnie replies. “It’s a curse, Elena. It’s meant to be a punishment. Everlasting hunger, the guilt and shame that come with killing. And the opportunity to be human again, if vampires knew it were available, well...”  
  
“We’d all be tripping over each other to get it. Just like we are now,” Damon finishes for her.  
  
Damon’s words give Elena pause. She’s never considered that vampires might be willing to give up the strength and speed and Power that came with being what they were. She wonders if Damon would want to be human again. With her. Under the table, she reaches for his fingers. He grips her hand and their eyes meet for a moment.  
  
“It was too risky to hide it in this dimension, so it was taken to the place you call the Other Side. The Hunter’s mark, and the Hunter that bears it, will guide you through the Dark Dimension, as they call it. It will lead you to your cure.”  
  
“Or death,” Bonnie warns. “I’ve been there, and the Spirits will try to trap you if they think you don’t belong.”  
  
“She’s right,” Shane agrees. “It’s not without a significant amount of danger. How much do you want this, Elena?”  
  
She thought she was sure, but is the risk too much? Damon squeezes her hand tightly. “She wants it,” he says.  
  
Elena shakes her head. “We’re still just talking in hypotheticals here. Tell me more.”  
  
“I don’t know a lot more. I’d _guess_ that there will be trials for you, Elena. And it will probably be protected by significant dark magic.”  
  
Bonnie sighs. “I guess that means I’m going with.”  
  
“Are you sure, Bonnie?” Elena asks. “I know you’d rather stay away from all this vampire stuff.”  
  
Bonnie shrugs. “I have a responsibility to the Power I have. I can’t just use it for silly things like lighting candles forever. If I can use it to help my best friend, and make supernatural history besides, I’m going to do it.”  
  
Elena smiles sadly at Bonnie. “Thank you,” she says. She hopes her eyes convey all the sincerity in her heart.  
  
“How close is your Hunter to finishing his mark? He’ll need to go with you.”  
  
“Oh no, if we do this, we need to find a way to keep Jer out of it. No, Damon,” Elena says, anticipating his protest. “I know what we talked about earlier, but this isn’t about me, and it’s Non. Negotiable. If there’s that much risk, a Gilbert has to survive. Everyone else is gone,” she reminds him, and she swallows down the tears that have been building.  
  
Shane silently files away the fact that Jeremy is their Hunter. “Well, if I can decipher all of the mark, once it’s finished, I might be able to guide you,” he offers.  
  
Elena nods.  
  
“That means I go, too,” Damon demands.  
  
“No--”  
  
“And this, _Elena_ , is Non. Negotiable,” he replies, resolved.  
  
“I’ll put together some notes, and be ready to go once Jeremy is,” Shane says. Elena thanks him, and Bonnie walks him to the door.  
  
Elena hugs her friend again. “Text me when you get home?”  
  
“Sure,” Bonnie agrees, and walks out into the night. Elena shuts the door behind her.  
  
\---  
  
Bonnie parks the Prius in the driveway. When she climbs out of the car, she knows immediately that something is wrong--no crickets.  
  
The hybrid Darius and his beta, Melanie, emerge silently from the shadows.  
  
“What do you want?” she asks, but she can guess well enough that Klaus sent them.  
  
Their eyes blacken, and fangs descend, and they lunge at her. One of them, Melanie, manages to get a hand on her jacket and rends the fabric open. Bonnie gets one hand free of the sleeve and lifts it against Darius and puts all her meager Power behind it.  
  
He crumples, falling to his knees and clawing at his eyes.  
  
But Melanie has managed to get her fingernails into Bonnie’s scalp, and pulls her head to the side. Bonnie can’t disarm them both at the same time, and she’s so fried from earlier that she can’t think quickly enough.  
  
The female hybrid jerks, fangs inches from Bonnie’s skin, and looks at her, wide-eyed in fear.  
  
And falls to the gravel, dead.  
  
Bonnie reaches up to staunch the bleeding at the back of her head, and watches as the stranger, all tall, blond, and muscle, tears into Darius’s back and rips out his heart. He drops it, and turns to Bonnie.  
  
She takes several quick steps backward, unsure.  
  
“Wait, wait,” he says, and grabs for her, his blood-covered hands staining what fabric remains of her jacket. His fingers reach the exposed skin, and she sees.  
  
A bar, and a ring, and a stake.  
  
“Jeremy sent you,” she realizes, and relief washes over her. “You’re here to help.”  
  
“Yeah, how’d--Whatever. I’m Vaughn. And you’re welcome. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”  
  
Bonnie’s almost steady on her feet. She looks nervously around the block, wondering if anyone saw, or if any of Klaus’s other lieutenants are on their way. “Yeah, let’s not hang around out here.”  
  
“I’ll get these bodies hidden and meet you in there.”  
  
She nods. When she’s safe inside, she pulls out her phone to text Elena like she promised.  
  
 _Home safe. And I think the universe just handed us a break. Tell you tomorrow._  
  
\---  
  
Damon fixes Elena’s gaze when she re-enters the kitchen. He’s finished her drink, washed the glass, and replaced it in the cupboard.  
  
“I needed that,” she protests.  
  
He waits silently for her to let her bravado fade. He’s been with her through this rollercoaster day, and he knows that even the stalwart Elena--especially her, in fact--is running out of steam. He reaches for her.  
  
She collapses in his arms and lets the tears she’s been fighting come. He wraps his arms around her and rests his cheek on her head. He just breathes a deep rhythm against her, closes his eyes, and hopes she takes comfort from his calm.  
  
When her sobs subside, Damon carries her upstairs to bed.  
  
“Will you stay?” she asks, tucking her feet beneath the sheets.  
  
“If you want.”  
  
“Thank you. For everything today; this week.” She laughs. “This year.”  
  
“You’re always welcome, Elena.”  
  
She holds open the comforter and blankets. He pulls off his boots and climbs in with her, leaving a safe distance between them.  
  
She closes it, pulling his arm around her shoulders.  
  
“I know I’ve said this before, but I don’t know what I would do without you here. Now more than ever, you...”  
  
“I what?”  
  
“You just _know_ exactly what I need to hear sometimes, right when I need to hear it.”  
  
He dips his lips to her forehead, and she continues. “You drive me insane, but... you keep this _life_ sane.”  
  
Elena brings her free hand up to his face, and tilts it toward her own. She searches his eyes.  
  
“Elena,” Damon says cautiously. “You know how I feel about you. But you’ll be human again soon, and you shouldn’t have to regret any choices you might make now.”  
  
“I could never regret having a little love in my life. And I’m not asking you to marry me, Damon. I’m just asking you to kiss me.”  
  
And as usual, her words unmake him. He pours all his resolve into her mouth, and into her skin in the places he touches her, and they melt together in the soft corners of her sheets and their heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The TVD wiki spells the ancient witch's name "Qetsiyah," but meh. Silas is a Biblical name, so it makes more sense to me that it would be spelled "Keziah," like Job's daughter, particularly if the Silas story is meant to have taken place that long ago. Pardon if it bugs folks. <3


	6. Dalliances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is light on plot. Just some fun, semi-smutty Steferine and Delena scenes [in that order, for any who might wish to skip either]. Happy holidays!

After searching the pockets of the dead bar patrons, Stefan discovers that one of the corpses had the keys to a van in the back lot. He and Jeremy load the bodies in to take them to the mansion on Coliseum.   
  
Klaus helps them add the two girls from the first night to the pile, and Jeremy gets violently ill in a row of purple bell agapanthus outside the iron gate. Stefan doesn’t blame him.  
  
“Why don’t I stay behind, clean up. I’ll catch you up in a day or so,” Stefan suggests. He’s disgusted with himself for letting this happen, and more than a little certain that he doesn’t want to face Elena after Jeremy tells her what happened here.   
  
Klaus narrows his eyes at Stefan. “So you can cook up another one of your pathetic schemes? No, I don’t think so. I’m just about finished with all your lies and betrayal, Stefan.”  
  
“Then compel me,” he offers a little more desperately than he meant to. “I just want one fucking day to clean all this up”--he gestures to the gore covering himself, the van, and the house--“without having to listen to you two bickering at each other. Compel me to do it and come home tomorrow.”  
  
“Now, ripper, there’s no need for expletives, colorful as they are coming out of your mouth. All the same, I think I will compel you just in case,” Klaus says, glaring still. “Take care of this,” he commands, “and return to Mystic Falls tomorrow. Contact no one.”  
  
Stefan nods his thanks. Klaus and Jeremy pack their bags and set off for home in the space of an hour. Stefan disposes of the bodies in one of the nearer swamps, and leaves the van, unlocked, in one of the farther parking lots, before walking the long way through the city back to the Garden District.   
  
If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his own gray guilt and black despair, he would have noticed her in the shadows of the oak sooner. He shuts the iron gate behind him as he enters the small front yard of the mansion.   
  
“You smell like death, Stefan. I kind of like it,” she teases.  
  
“Go away, Katherine.”  
  
“Aw, I’m hurt. No desperate declarations of how much you missed me? How glad you are to see me?”  
  
“What do you want?” he asks, exasperated.   
  
“I missed you, Stefan,” she replies, walking backward through the mansion’s front door. “I just want to hang out for a while.”   
  
Stefan follows her inside, knowing he has no choice in the matter. He sighs.  
  
-  
  
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you here. Damon gave me a heads up, but I thought I’d keep a safe distance,” she explains, fingering the frames of the artwork on the walls. “S’pose he didn’t entirely trust you with Klaus. I wonder why?” she finishes with a knowing grin.  
  
“He tell you everything else that’s going on?” Stefan asks as he takes a seat on the couch.  
  
She slides gracefully onto the couch beside him and lifts her feet into his lap. “He didn’t have to,” she says. “I saw enough to get the general picture, and the rest I deduced myself from eavesdropping on your little outings with the bane of my existence and _Elena_ ’s brat of a little brother.”  
  
Katherine examines her nails. “When he texted me, I thought I’d stop by and check in on them on my way down here. And my, that Damon, he does move quickly when it comes to your women, doesn’t he?”  
  
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Stefan asks, though he can guess. Damon has been waiting for a chance to sweep Elena up since the brothers went to Mystic Falls last year, and Stefan’s not surprised to hear he’s made a move.   
  
“He had Elena all sweaty on the living room floor...,” she taunts. “...And nice and cozy in her bed... and his. Why, if I weren’t such a progressive lady myself, I’d be simply _shocked_ at the liberties he’s taken with you out of town.”  
  
“Elena and I broke up, Katherine. She’s perfectly within her rights to choose him,” Stefan says, mentally adding _no matter how much of a mistake it is_. “Though I did hope that Damon would have had more class than the living room floor,” he tacks on, attempting detached nonchalance.  
  
“Damon never was one for waiting for the right place or time. He was always overcome by his passion in the moment,” Katherine says, lifting her feet and scooting closer to Stefan. “Not like you, my sweet, restrained Stefan. But you can’t actually be okay with the two of them together?”  
  
“Of course I’m not okay with it, but it’s not like I have a say in the matter. She’s not herself right now. And when I get the cure, we can fix it.”  
  
“You don’t _really_ believe that, do you?”   
  
He stands, uncomfortable. “I’m going to shower.”  
  
She smiles slyly.   
  
\-   
  
Stefan has only had time enough to scrub the top layer of grime and sweat and blood from his skin when a naked Katherine invades his shower.   
  
“Room for one more in here?” She doesn’t wait for a response to join him under the spray.  
  
"No," he says, glaring.   
  
"You know, Stef, one day you're going to tire of telling me no," Katherine says, matter-of-fact. "And I can't wait for that day," she whispers, brushing her nose against the shell of his ear.   
  
He can't help noticing her glistening skin in his peripheral vision, but he keeps his eyes resolutely on her face. "This is really getting desperate, Katherine," he replies with a cold smile, and pushes her back with a finger over her mouth. "You're embarrassing yourself."  
  
And in a second, Katherine has Stefan pinned to the chilly glass tiles, one hand holding both of his and her free forearm pressed against his neck.  
  
"No, Stefan, you're the one embarrassing yourself,” she says, her voice turned suddenly and completely to stone. “Your precious little girlfriend left you practically the moment she turned, and your supposedly devoted big brother didn't spare a second thought for you before pouncing on her. And everyone else you care about is dead. Even if you do find a cure, things will never be the same."   
  
Katherine is right, and he hates her for it.  
  
"There's no one left who loves you, Stef. No one but me." She releases him, wondering how he'll respond now. "I still do."  
  
He stalks forward, backing her into the tile. Her heart pounds in her chest with hope and fear. She searches for some sign of what he’s thinking, but his face is a mask, intense but inscrutable.  
  
His mouth crashes into hers, relentless and unforgiving. She responds with enthusiasm, submitting to his rage and guilt with a smile in her soul. If he wants somewhere to pour his frustration, she’ll take it, and thank him for a second helping later. When they’re dry and warm in that enormous master bed.  
  
The skin of her lips bruises, and then breaks under his hostility; she returns the favor, her fangs nipping at his bottom lip. She sucks it into her mouth and tastes him for the first time in more than a century. _Too long_ , she thinks to herself.  
  
His fingers dig into the crease above her thighs. She lifts one leg, and then the other, over his hips. The warm water pelts against her toes, but that’s the only thought she spares for the fact that Stefan’s about to fuck her in the shower. Which they haven’t done in... ever.  
  
\-   
  
In the end, they’ve broken a handful of tiles, she’s ripped the shower curtain to shreds, and the floor is covered in a quarter inch of water.   
  
He leans against the wall, panting to catch his breath. He forgot how insatiable she was. She combs out her hair, admiring her reflection. She hums a song he doesn’t recognize, and part of him--a small part--remembers that he thinks she’s beautiful.  
  
Katherine sets down the comb and reaches for his hand to help him stand.   
  
“Let’s get you to bed,” she says affectionately.   
  
-  
  
Feeling somewhat smug, she smiles as she untucks the bedsheets and climbs in with her Stefan. Hands behind his head, he looks... almost relaxed.   
  
She reaches up and swipes a thumb across his furrowed brow. “Don’t fight it,” she says, tracing a line down his nose and over his mouth. “You know you love me. And you have every moment since you met me. It’s only when you think too much, let your humanity get in our way, that you forget it,” she finishes.  
  
Stefan laughs and kisses her palm. “What humanity?” he asks with cold eyes and an empty smile. In a flash, he flips her over and closes two hands over her throat. Katherine gasps for breath and slaps at his arms ineffectually. Terrified, she etches scratch marks into his hands, again and again as they heal, until eventually she gains purchase on them. She pries his fingers off her, and elbows him in the cheek.   
  
“Aagh!” he manages as she digs her heel into his stomach, forcing him onto his back against the footboard.  
  
With Stefan naked and gasping on the bed, she stands and retrieves her clothing. “It might not be love yet, Stef,” she says, entirely too pleased with herself, “but this is a big step past the hate you claimed last time, lover.” She blows him a kiss and disappears out the window, her hair catching the wind. _Drama queen_ , he thinks to himself.    
  
He packs his bag sullenly, and when the clock clicks over to 12:00 AM, he swings the duffel over his shoulder and leaves.  
  
Stefan couldn’t care less whether the mansion is clean.   


* * *

Damon starts with slow and gentle kisses, and keeps his eyes open, wanting to see her reaction before continuing. Elena’s eyelashes lay against the skin of her cheeks, and he brushes at them with his fingertips. She looks like she might be asleep, but for the tease of a smile and the irregular beat of her heart.  
  
“Again,” she whispers.   
  
This time, he’s not about to kiss her halfway. He presses his thumb against her chin, forcing her mouth open to his. Her tongue tastes just as sweet as he remembers from Colorado, and Damon loses himself in her for a few not-long-enough moments. He cradles her head in one hand, and lets the other roam. He does his best to stick to relatively safe spots on her body: her cheek, her arm, her hand, her waist, but she’s not helping by undulating against him, vibrating, heat radiating from her pores.  
  
It’s when Elena traces a foot up his leg so her knee comes to rest in the notch above his hip that he forces himself to return to a semi-sane state.   
  
“Whoa, whoa,” he says, and lets a breath into the space between them. Her eyes open, just barely, and she can’t look anywhere but at his mouth. And he notices. “I gave you what you wanted.”  
  
“And what do you want, Damon?” she asks, still holding him tight with a leg wrapped around him. His fingers ghost over the back of her knee, making her shiver. He grips her harder and frees himself.  
  
“I want you, Elena, yes, but not because you’re lonely or scared or think you owe me something. It should be because you want _me_. Because you _choose_ me.” The desire and pain in his eyes break her heart just a little bit. Because he’s so, so wrong about what’s happening in her bed.  
  
“I _am_ feeling lonely. And scared. And I do owe you, Damon. But that’s not why we’re here. That’s not why I asked you to kiss me,” she says. He’s not sure how to respond, so he doesn’t.  
  
“We are messy, and complicated, and sometimes, we’re complete disasters, you and me. We fight, and make each other cry, and hate each other more than a little bit of the time. But at the end of the day... I know you’re in my corner. That you won’t leave. You won’t give up. Never stop fighting for yourself, or for _me_. You pretend you’re this nonchalant, devil-may-care badass--”  
  
“I’m totally a badass!” As he says it, it occurs to him that he told Jeremy just a few days ago that real badasses don’t need to say as much. Sometimes he shouldn’t say words.  
  
“--but you do care about some things,” she continues after an obligatory eyeroll. “And when you do, you’d do _anything_ for them. Like I would. Most people aren’t like that, Damon,” she explains, taking his face in her hands. “I trust you. Like I trust no one else. I do want you. I do choose you.”  
  
He never believed he’d hear words like those from her in this life. If he were honest, part of him expected her to say words so similar to the ones Katherine used to crush him. And he knows that everything might change when she’s human again, but in this moment, her words are her truth. In this moment, she _is_ his.  
  
Elena’s eyes meet his and she refuses to blink while he makes his decision. She can’t force him to take her word, to believe her. And she knows there’s a piece of him that, much as he wants her, thinks he doesn’t deserve her. There’s no way to know whether her words were enough to convince him.  
  
Until he kisses her again.  
  
Damon’s mouth is on hers, and though this kiss is just as slow and agonizing as the others, there’s no restraint in it. He’s claiming something, some piece of her, determined to have it. Her fingers wind into his hair, and he presses her onto her back and deepens the kiss, forcing them together into the recesses of the passion they’ve been denying for months.   
  
His hands roam again, this time touching her in any and every spot he wants. Tonight, they’re all his. Under her shirt, over the soft skin of her stomach. Up to her chest, over the spot where her heart beats beneath. Across the rough lace of her bra, where it cradles her breast. He lifts her from the bed and pulls the knit shirt over her head before laying her back down.  
  
Elena grabs the hem of his henley and does the same, desperate to feel his naked skin against hers. His hair is mussed, from her fingers or the shirt, she’s not sure, but all she wants is to make it worse. She reaches for it when he comes back to her, forgetting--or perhaps not--her new vampire strength. His head tilts to the side and his eyes darken, realizing what she’s asking for. He latches onto her neck, first with lips, and then with teeth, and then with _teeth_.   
  
She moans into the air, and Damon feels the vibration in his skin, but is too devoted to her blood to hear it. When he comes up for a breath, he drips some of the blood onto her half-exposed chest. Not one to waste, he picks it up with an index finger. Elena watches his movement, and pulls the finger into her mouth.  
  
There’s no going slow now, not for Damon. With his free hand, he reaches down to unbutton her jeans. He slips toward the end of her bed to pull them off. She lifts her hips to help, and her underwear comes off with her jeans. He slips out of the rest of his own clothing and kneels back on the bed. He takes her right, then left leg in turn, nipping into her ankles and femoral arteries. He watches, fascinated, as each wound knits itself closed again.   
  
He drags her hips onto his knees and spreads a hand behind her scapulae to lift her up to face him. She gives him her wrist, understanding the need to taste every one of her soft, beating spots. He takes it. And as he opens each major vein and each artery methodically, her waning patience moves her hips against him, where he’s hard and warm.   
  
Their dark, veined eyes meet. His mouth glistens red, and she has no more waiting in her. She lets her fangs fall, and sinks them into his carotid, where the blood pumps hot and frantic. Overcome with the lust of the bloodshare, Damon slides himself inside her, as quickly as he can stand and infinitely more slowly than she wants.  
  
He grips Elena’s hips in his hands, and moves them in rhythm, knowing she’ll feel him though she can’t focus on anything but his blood. When she finally pulls away from his neck, her head falls back in a moan. He can’t resist her collarbones, the hollow between them, and the swells of her breasts. She reaches behind her, unhooks the bra, and tosses it... anywhere else but here.  
  
Faced with more of her to taste, he lays her down again, never breaking his pace inside her. Damon licks one perfectly round areola, its pretty mocha skin shrinking under his touch as it hardens, and he traces the crease under her breast, his new favorite Elenaspot, with his nose. Elena lifts her arms to the headboard to push against the strength of his thrusts.  
  
“Harder,” she requests.   
  
Not sure which she wants harder, his mouth or his cock, he gives her both. He’d give her anything.   
  
She locks her ankles behind his hips, and uses her thigh strength to flip them over so she’s on top. She dips her lips to his, and whispers into them. “I said, _harder_.”  
  
She leans back to brace herself on his calves, and sets her own pace. She whips her hair back, out of the way, and it’s long enough that he feels it brush his legs. He grips high up on her thighs, his thumbs caressing the sensitive skin a little _too_ lightly. It drives him insane, watching her ride him, and he knows his fingers are returning the favor at least a bit. Sure enough, ticklish but aroused, her thighs want to both clench shut and open to him further. She knows what she needs, what will bring her up and over, and asks for it.  
  
“Touch me,” she asks.  
  
Not that he’s forgotten for a moment, but he still finds it hard to fathom that this is _Elena_. He never wanted this life for her, as many million times as he imagined it, but he’s selfishly glad that she’s gotten to experience it, and that he’s gotten to see her experience it.   
  
And he wants to see her come.  
  
Damon moves one thumb to her clit, and his eyes to her face. Her arms tighten, and her stomach, and her legs. She loses her rhythm, but he’s there to keep her steady as she shakes and _shakes_ , eyes shut tight and mouth wide, and cries out to him.  
  
In the space of a blink, he sits up, grabs her around the waist, and tosses her on her back again. He lifts one of her knees toward her chest, and bends to kiss her as he returns to the pace she set. They’re both slippery with saltsweat and saliva and blood. Her pulse pounds between her lips, and he pounds against it, and it takes him only moments before he pours into her all his need and longing and love.  
  
Damon releases her knee, and breathes against the hollow of her neck. She strokes his cheeks with her thumbs, and lifts his face to hers for one more consuming kiss. He falls to her side and rests his head on the pillow. Elena lifts an elbow to rest her head in her palm, and brushes his sweat-soaked hair back to gaze into his eyes.  
  
“I love you, Damon,” she tells him.  
  
He laughs. “It doesn’t count if you say it just after sex.”  
  
“Oh, is that right?” she says with a chuckle.  
  
“Hey, I don’t make up the rules, Princess. You’ll just have to tell me again later.”   
  
“I will,” she promises, and nips at his shoulder playfully. She falls asleep in his arms.  
  
-

When Elena wakes in the morning, he’s gone. But she knows better than to think _he’s gone_. The sun is just emerging, the sky a pretty purple with a pink streak near the horizon. She drapes her robe on and ties it as she comes down the stairs.  
  
“What are you--” she says in awe.   
  
It’s Damon. In a Santa hat.   
  
“I went to the lake house this morning and got the Christmas decorations. I figured it would be a nice surprise for Jeremy when he gets back. I also got... this!” Damon points to the family room, where he’s set up a fresh and fragrant fir. “Wanna help me trim?” he asks, dangling a small red globe from the top box.   
  
Elena smiles. “Yes,” she replies, and comes over to take his hand. “Thank you,” she says, infusing two words with as much sincerity as she can muster. “I love you, Damon.”  
  
With a heartbreaking half-smile, he leans down to peck her on the forehead. “I know. Merry Christmas, Elena.”  
  
  



	7. Responsibility

Elena is wearing more tinsel than the tree and has laughed more than she has in weeks when her phone pings. She groans.  
  
“Ignore it,” he whispers, and she enthusiastically submits to his lips.  
  
He relents when his own phone rings. He doesn’t look at who’s calling before he answers. “Damon has better things to do right now, so leave a message at the--” _click_. “There, all better,” he says with a smile.   
  
It’s a short-lived happiness, though. It rings again, and he looks to see who’s calling. This time, he answers.   
  
“What’s wrong?” he says, and Elena straightens up, shaking gold and silver strands from her hair.   
  
_“I thought your imminent death might interest you,”_ Katherine speculates dramatically.  
  
Damon rolls his eyes, and Elena sighs. She’s glad for her vampire hearing now, because she’s not sure Damon would have told her he was in contact with her Doppelgänger otherwise, trust or no.   
  
“How’s that?”  
  
 _“Klaus is coming back with the Huntersprout later today. Stefan’s about a day behind them. I detained him for a while, but don’t worry, he enjoyed it,”_ she taunts.  
  
“I’ll bet.” He surreptitiously glances over at Elena to see her drop her eyes in response to this news.   
  
_"I took the liberty of telling him all about you and Elena. Save you the trouble,"_ he says. _“Guess he might not have taken it very well, if the whole nearly-choking-me-to-death is any indicator. I’d be on Ripper watch if I were you. Good luck!”_ Katherine hangs up.   
  
“What’ve you got?” sighs Damon.   
  
Elena reaches for her phone. “911 from Bonnie. But it sounds like a good emergency? I don’t know. I better go find out,” she says reluctantly. “Guess we’ll have to figure out what to do about Stefan later on.”  
  
“Damn,” he says. “This is really eating into my whole plan for the day.”  
  
Elena smiles shyly. “You had a plan? What was it?”  
  
“It involved laying naked in bed all day watching Mae West movies.”  
  
“Ooh, mine involved Elvis’s Blue Christmas and cookie-baking.”  
  
“I like the way you think, Priscilla. Rain check?” he asks.  
  
“Mmm,” she replies, punctuating with a kiss.  
  
-  
  
Shortly after he sends Elena out into the cool, gray morning air, Damon remembers his brief, disturbing conversation with Katherine. Any number of possibilities skitter across his mind, but the fact that Katherine was worried about Ripper Stefan worries him, too.

Damon never doubted that Stefan’s ultimate goal in finding the cure was so he could ride off into the sunset with Elena, both human again. He’s happy to help with that plan except the part where Stefan gets the girl. After the night Damon shared with her, he _will_ fight for her, tooth and nail. For whatever she wants, yes, but he’s not about to forfeit anything to his little brother.   
  
But none of that means he wants Stefan to go off the deep end ripping and spend the next year broody and guilt-ridden. And Damon has been through this often enough to know he’s not the one who’ll be able help Stefan come back from it. With Lexi gone-- _because you murdered her_ , he reminds himself--if Stefan’s gone off the rails, someone else will have to be the first wave of Ripper offense.   
  
Damon knows just who.  
  
-  
  
Elena knocks on Bonnie’s door. Just a few weeks ago, she would have turned the knob and walked straight in, but now, she needs an invitation.  
  
“It’s me, Bonnie,” she calls.   
  
A strange blond man steps out, Bonnie in tow. He takes one look at Elena and backs her up against a wood porch post, her neck under his arm.   
  
“A vampire, Bonnie?” he demands.  
  
Elena pushes with all her might against his frame, pulls one of his arms behind his back, and smashes his head into the cedar shingles. She snatches the stake out of his waistband and slams it against the door, where it splinters.  
  
“A Hunter, Bonnie?” She looks at her friend incredulously.   
  
The wind whips through Bonnie’s hair, and a ten-foot barrier erupts between Elena and Vaughn, which neither can penetrate.   
  
“Stop. Now. We’re wasting time. Vaughn, I know you have no reason to, but trust me when I say we all need to work together. It will all make sense soon, I promise.”   
  
He huffs and points at Elena. “She so much as sniffs me the wrong way, I’ll take her head off.”   
  
Bonnie nods, trying hard not to show her exasperation. She turns to her friend, who glares at the newcomer with barely-tempered fury. “Elena, is Damon with you?”  
  
“No. He went to Caroline’s to talk about Stefan. He’s on his way back, a few hours behind Jer and Klaus. Unless we can find a way to stall them, they’ll be here any time now.”  
  
“Klaus is coming here?” Vaughn asks, but Bonnie speaks to Elena again.   
  
“Call him. Tell him to come. We need to go, and soon. I’ll get Shane.”  
  
“Okay, but Bonnie--”  
  
“Now, Elena. Please, I can explain everything when we get there.”  
  
Fear flutters up through Elena’s stomach and chest at the pleading in her best friend’s face. She nods, and pulls out her cell.  
  
Bonnie does the same. She taps out a message to Shane. I _f you made holiday plans, you better cancel. Pack what you think you’ll need to decipher the Mark. We’re going now._  
  
\-   
  
“Damon?” Caroline greets him at the door.  
  
“Hey, blondie,” he says, and shoves past her into the house. “My favorite sheriff here?”  
  
“No, she left for the station early.”  
  
“Good.” He turns to grip her gaze. “Your keen assistance is needed on a delicate matter.”  
  
“Because I woke up this morning wondering how I could help you, Damon,” she replies sarcastically.  
  
“It’s not for _me_ , it’s for Stefan.”  
  
She uncurls her arms from her chest. “Oh.”  
  
“That’s what I thought.”  
  
“He’s potentially off the rails, Sober-Wan-Kenobi, and he might need your help when he gets back. I’m not sure the details because Katherine wasn’t exactly forthcoming.”  
  
“You brought Katherine into this?” she demands.  
  
“Like it or not, Barbie, she cares about him, just like we do. Would you have been willing to go keep an eye on him in New Orleans? Klaus would have sniffed you out before you stepped out your door.”  
  
“That’s ridic--”  
  
“Whatever, Caroline, I’m not here to speculate on his little infatuation with you. Or yours with him?” he adds knowingly. “My point is, Stefan needed watching, and Katherine was willing to help. Now I need to know if you are.”  
  
“Of course,” she replies immediately. “What can I do?”  
  
“We won’t know how bad it is until he gets home, probably tomorrow. Either way, he won’t want me near him.”  
  
“Yeah, I can relate.”  
  
Damon stalks up and towers over her. His cold eyes brook no disagreement. “Do whatever he needs. Lock him up, take him somewhere, I don’t care. Get him off the juice. Get him back.”  
  
“And how am I supposed to pry Klaus away from him?”  
  
“You’re resourceful,” he says with a condescending smile. “You’ll figure something out.”  
  
“Are we not going to talk about how this is your fault?”  
  
“It usually is, Caroline. Why dwell?” he asks, though he disagrees about anything being his fault. But Caroline is firmly on the Saint Stefan train, and he needs to stay on her good side.    
  
“Also,” he deflects, “you should go see to your Miss Mystic buddy April Young. Matt made the executive decision to inform her of all the things that go bump in the night here. Guess I’m not the only crazy one, amirite? Toodles.”   
  
The curtains on the window swish as he shuts the door behind him.  
  
-  
  
Damon pulls his fangs out of a pretty redheaded girl he lured into the alley behind the Grill when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He zips her jacket back up for her.  
  
“Forget this. Wear scarves until your neck heals. Go.” She obeys.  
  
He answers on the fourth ring.  
  
“Everything all right in Oz, Dorothy?”  
  
“I’m not sure if it is, Damon. We have another Hunter, like we were hoping, and his mark is complete. Bonnie says we need to go soon.”  
  
“When?” he asks, already running toward the boarding house.   
  
“Before Klaus gets back, so, pretty much now.”  
  
“I’ll pack a bag and be there soon.”  
  
“Okay, good. Damon?”  
  
“Yeah, ‘Lena?”  
  
“Hurry.”  
  
-  
  
Since the explosion at the farmhouse, April has been staying at the parish house. It was her father’s by right as the Pastor, but they’d opted to stay on the farm for as long as she can remember. This place doesn’t feel like home, but it’s not like she has anywhere else to go.   
  
At least Matt keeps her company in the middle of all the chaos. Even though he’s kind of introduced her to a whole new world of chaos in the last few days. But thanks to him, she knows the consequences of the choice of whether to let Caroline in when she knocks on the door.  
  
“Hi, April. Damon told me Matt clued you in to all the creepy in town. I’d love to come in and help you understand it all, if you’ll let me?”  
  
Matt appears behind April, but doesn’t comment as she decides whether to invite Caroline in. This is where April has to sleep at night, he wants her to feel safe.  
  
April nods.  
  
“I--,” Caroline stutters. “I need a little more than that.”  
  
“Oh,” April replies. “Um. Come in, Caroline.”  
  
“Thanks. Hey, Matt.”  
  
“Hi, Care. You want some coffee?”  
  
“Sure,” she replies brightly. Matt’s hair is rumpled, like he slept there. Caroline looks back to April, and catches her eyes following him into the kitchen. She fights the urge to feel momentarily jealous and realizes that she’s actually kind of glad that the two of them have someone to share Christmas with.   
  
Caroline follows Matt, and they gather around the kitchen island. She breaks the awkward silence after ten agonizing seconds of it.  
  
“So... Do you have questions?”  
  
“Have I ever been compelled?”  
  
Caroline focuses intently into her coffee cup. “Three times.”  
  
April looks at her expectantly.  
  
“Once was Stefan. He compelled you to forget something he said to Rebekah. The other two times were for your protection, I swear. There was a Hunter in town--”  
  
“A Hunter like Jeremy’s a hunter?” April interjects.  
  
“Yes, only he was a lot more deadly, and a lot more willing to hurt humans for the sake of his mission to kill vampires. He almost killed you twice and I didn’t think you’d want those memories.”  
  
“So you did it?”  
  
Caroline shakes her head. “Elena and Stefan.”  
  
April nods, but sets her mouth in a thin line. She's too tough, now, to let any tears escape.   
  
“It was really awful, April. You shouldn’t have to carry that,” Matt says.  
  
“I also shouldn’t have to deal with vampires messing around with my memories,” she replies harshly. “How do I keep you from doing it again?” she demands of Caroline.  
  
“Your bracelet,” Matt says. “It has vervain in it. That will protect you.”  
  
April snaps her head back. “The one you and Jeremy--” she says, touching the hemp tentatively.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“But you shouldn’t rely on it always,” Caroline says. “Stefan managed to compel Jeremy just by taking it off when he wasn’t paying attention. Matt, see if you can get more vervain for tea. It’s more reliable if you ingest it regularly.”   
  
“Stefan was compelling Jeremy? I thought he was one of the good guys?”  
  
“It’s not always as simple as good guys and bad guys,” Caroline replies. “When you’re dealing with the supernatural, sometimes the ends justify the means.”  
  
“And what are the ‘ends’ that require being total jerks to the humans who are trying to help?”  
  
“April,” warns Matt.  
  
“Look, April. I get that you’re new to all this stuff. But trust me when I tell you that there are bad guys. Ones who will kill you unless me and my friends are protecting you. I wouldn’t hurt you, and I will do all I can to keep other vampires from hurting you. Vampires who don’t think twice about the loss of human life, like Klaus. And if Damon is right, Stefan too.”  
  
“Stefan?” Matt asks.  
  
“Damon thinks he’s fallen off the wagon. I’m going to help him get blood-sober again, but that means we have to get him away from Klaus once they’re back in town. I need a distraction. Usually _I’m_ the Klaus-distractor, but obviously _that’s_ not going to work this time.”  
  
“What about Rebekah?” Matt ponders.  
  
“You’re kidding, right? She’d be one more wild card in this oversized deck of crazy!” Caroline screeches.  
  
“Trust me, Care, I know that better than you do. She almost killed me, remember? And so have Elena _and_ Damon. But I’m still here and fighting, aren’t I?”  
  
April barely follows this exchange. “Where is Rebekah? And since when were you almost dead, Matt?” Her eyes dart back and forth, demanding answers.   
  
“I thought you told her everything?” Caroline interjects.  
  
“Gave her the basics, but skipped the play-by-play,” answers Matt. He turns to April, and switches to a calmer voice. “You already know that Rebekah is Klaus’s sister, but they’re also the oldest vampires in existence, along with their brothers Kol and Elijah. Rebekah’s not so bad, unless you piss her off. Which Elena did, and I was nearly the collateral damage.”  
  
“I think I might pass out.” April’s knuckles whiten as she grips the table.  
  
“Hey, whoa,” Matt says as he comes around to steady her. “If you’re going to pass out just from that, maybe you shouldn’t know any more?”  
  
“No,” she replies, and takes a few deep breaths. “No going back, now, right?” she says rhetorically, smiling, but leans away from Caroline into Matt’s arms just the same. “So where is she, then? She just disappeared right after her party.”  
  
Caroline decides she’s right, and fills April in. “We can’t kill the Originals. Or rather, we could, but it might be a monumentally bad idea. Klaus and Stefan conspired to dagger her--that’s like a temporary death--and Stefan hid her body. Matt,” she says, turning to him, “even if we wanted to undagger her, Stefan is the only one who knows where she is.”  
  
“Would Damon know?” April asks. “I mean, he’s gotta know Stefan better than any of us.”  
  
“Ugh,” Caroline groans. The last person she wants to admit needing help from is Damon. But waking Rebekah might be the perfect distraction for Klaus while she helps Stefan sober up. She taps her speed dial and hits sends before she can talk herself out of it. “If he knows, he’ll spill.”  
  
-  
  
Bonnie meets him at the end of the driveway. “Damon, wait.”  
  
“Who’s the he-man? New boyfriend?” he asks with a lascivious side-grin.  
  
“He’s the one about to save all our metaphorical--and physical--asses, Damon. He’s the Hunter.”  
  
“And you left him alone up there with Elena?” He sprints to the porch and reaches to pull Elena behind him. Bonnie’s barrier is still active, and he can’t get any closer than a few feet, try as he might.   
  
“I took care of it, Damon,” Bonnie says harshly.   
  
“Knew I liked you,” he replies with genuine appreciation.   
  
“Are we done with the attacking now? We _are_ on a deadline.” Bonnie looks to them in turn, each bursting to know more details. “I’m going to keep the ward up, just in case. We were talking about needing a way to keep Jeremy out of this, and Vaughn’s it. He’s a Hunter. With a complete Mark.”  
  
“Jeremy sent me. Asked me to help. Told me that I’d get answers here.”  
  
“You’ve seen my brother?” Elena asks desperately. “How is he, is he okay--”  
  
“He was okay when I left him, aside from spending too much time with vampires. Though I guess that’s what all the cool kids are doing these days,” he says sarcastically, scoffing at Elena and Damon. Bonnie he just glares at.   
  
“We can tell you anything you want to know about, and whatever we can’t, Shane can. Is he coming, Damon?”  
  
Damon nods tightly. He’s beginning to see the stretching tendrils of Bonnie’s plan weave together, and realizes why the rush.  
  
“Good.”  
  
“We need to go as soon as he gets here,” Damon says. “Speak of the devil,” he adds as Shane’s car pulls into the drive. He retrieves a heavy bag from the trunk.  
  
“Do we know where?” Elena asks.  
  
“I have some ideas,” Shane says, eyes alight. “Hey all. You’re the Hunter?” He directs that question to Vaughn, who doesn’t move. He pulls his hand back. “Okay. I’m Shane. This bag contains everything we need to be able to decipher your mark,” he says, and lays it down at his feet. “And a change of socks, but that’s neither here nor there.”  
  
“Ideas?” Damon reminds him.  
  
“Right. To get to any of the Dark Dimensions, you have to go through a Gate. There are five main Gates scattered across the country, but none within a day’s drive. An infinite number of small Gates exist at any intersection of three ley lines--the lines of Power that undergird the Earth. But entering through one of these won’t help either, we’ll probably just be chasing our tails to find any landmarks to judge where we are on the map.”  
  
“And behind door number three?” Damon asks.  
  
“There are certain places where people have used a lot of magic or Power. More Power pulls more ley lines together. When enough of them converge, it sort of punches a hole open to the Other Side, and a new Gate forms. It’s likely these will be more heavily guarded than small Gates, but I think it’s our best bet.”  
  
“There are places like that in Mystic Falls?” Elena asks, but as she says it, she can think of several possibilities. “The tomb under Fell’s Church.”  
  
“Likely guarded by the spirits of the vampires that spent a century desiccating there,” Bonnie speculates.  
  
“The cave behind the Lockwood cellar,” Shane guesses.   
  
“Dead werewolves. Or Mom and Pop Originalicus. No go,” Damon intuits. “The house where the witches died?”   
  
“That you and Elena can’t even enter on This Side,” Bonnie reminds him.  
  
“Wickery Bridge,” Elena finishes. They all take a beat to consider, and in turn, deflate.  
  
“I’m going to burn that bridge down when we get back,” Damon says dramatically.  
  
“I’ll help. I hate that bridge,” Elena agrees. “When do we go?”  
  
“One more minute.” Bonnie relaxes the barrier ward she raised, and reaches inside the threshold to retrieve a few sheaves of paper. “Remember how I contacted you when Rose and Trevor took you, Elena?”  
  
Damon blinks, remembering Rose.  
  
“You told me Stefan and Damon were coming for me.”  
  
“Yes. I want to spell this paper ahead of time so that someone can contact us just in case. I need something from you and Damon,” she requests as she removes her Grams’s ring.   
  
“Who?” Elena asks, removing her bracelet.  
  
“Caroline,” Damon interjects, adding the chain that hung under his shirt. “I left her in charge of the kids.”  
  
Eyes closed, Bonnie breathes deep and chants a few words in Latin over the paper. Shane looks on in interest, the tug of a smile sending a shiver up Elena’s spine. When she looks at Damon, she notices his shrewd scowl and wonders if he’s having the same apprehension about the professor.   
  
“Done,” Bonnie says, and packs the paper into an envelope. “We’ll drive by Caroline’s on the way.”  
  
Their agreement, though silent as the still air that surrounds them, is absolute.    
  
“Bet you’re wondering when your life turned into such a soap opera,” Bonnie says to Vaughn, apologetic.  
  
“Nah. It was long before I staked my first vampire,” Vaughn reassures her, a half-smile throwing his cheekbones and chin into sharper relief.  
  
“Enough flirting, Anita Blake,” Damon says pointedly to Vaughn. “Let’s go.”   
  
Bonnie blushes that Damon thought Vaughn might be flirting with her. “I’ll drive us to the boarding house. We should walk from there,” she reasons.  
  
They pile into Bonnie’s Prius looking like some deranged, motley supernatural crew embarking on a road trip.  
  
 _Which is kind of the truth_ , Damon thinks to himself. His phone jars him out of his sarcastic reverie.  
  
“Queen C. _Ex_ cellent timing.”  
  
 _“I have a solution for the Klaus and Stefan problem, but you’re not going to like it.”_  
  
“Do I ever?”  
  
 _“We were thinking of undaggering Rebekah._ Before _Klaus gets home with Stefan and Jeremy. Can you think of where Stefan might have stowed her?”_  
  
“I might have a few ideas. Where are you?”  
  
 _“April’s.”_  
  
“Be there in two shakes,” Damon replies, and hangs up. “Oh, Bon-bon. Reroute to April’s.”  
  
-  
  
As they pull up, Caroline huffs at seeing Damon and Elena together, but holds her tongue. A few moments later, Bonnie shifts the car into park and Damon meets Caroline on the front walk to hand her the manila envelope.  
  
“What’s this?” she asks, opening it to find blank paper. Matt and April join the small party on the porch.   
  
Vaughn and Shane, who chose to stay in the car with Bonnie, look curiously on. Damon has one ear on them, but his attention is, at best, divided.   
  
“Glinda spelled the paper so that you can contact us,” he explains. “If you come up with anything more on Shade over there,” he directs to Matt, “let us know. Where we’re going, we need as much information as possible on whatever he’s hiding.”   
  
Elena chimes in. “Whatever you find out, write it on here and then burn the paper. If Bonnie did it right, we should get it. In theory. This hasn’t exactly been tested before, I don’t think.”   
  
“Better we don’t know specifics,” Caroline says reasonably. “If we don’t know where you are, we can’t give you away to Klaus.”  
  
“Thank you, Caroline,” Elena says earnestly. “I’m glad you’re here to look over Stefan and Jeremy.”  
  
“Of course,” Caroline replies. “I’ll keep the home fires burning for you. Damon, about that _distraction_ \--”  
  
Damon stops her. “You know it’s a terrible idea, right?”  
  
“It’s all we’ve got,” Caroline pleads.  
  
Damon raises his eyebrows and laughs. “You didn’t think of oh, say, your _boy_ friend and his pack of anti-Klaus puppies?”  
  
“I don’t want to put Tyler at risk while he’s still working to unsire the rest. But I’ll contact him and see how far along he and Hayley are. And the other? Where would Stefan have taken her?”  
  
“I wrote a few ideas on the envelop for you to check out. He’s not very creative, my little brother. Shouldn’t be too tough to find her. Also,” he adds, “You do know that the only reason I’m letting you undagger Rebekah--”  
  
“Undagger Rebekah?” Elena asks, incredulous. The anger she thought she’d quelled flared up in her gut at just the mention of the name. “Why?”  
  
“Because she’s the most surefire way to drive Klaus up the wall,” Damon explains. “And because we will be far, _far_ away when she does it. Good luck with that,” he says sarcastically.   
  
“Damon, what the--” Elena protests.  
  
“Come on, Elena, you can berate me on the way,” Damon says, offering her his hand. She takes it, giving him a disapproving look--the adorable one, he thinks to himself, but won’t ever admit it to her--but she lets him lead her back to the car.  
  
-  
  
"Why park here?" Shane asks. "Wouldn't it be better to hide the fact that Bonnie's with us?"  
  
"Klaus will find that part out soon enough. Pretty much all we'll be able to hide is our actual destination," Damon explains as they set out on foot for the bridge.   
  
"And he'll figure that out once he deciphers Jeremy's mark with the sword he unearthed in Italy," Elena adds. "What then?" she asks.  
  
"Time passes differently there," Damon says, and they all turn to stare. "What? I might've been once or twice," he says dismissively.  
  
"Really?" Shane is clearly intrigued. "I'd love to hear more. Which Gate did you take?"   
  
"Story time later," Vaughn says impatiently. "Time passes differently how?"  
  
"More slowly," Damon explains. "Even if we're only a day ahead of Klaus, that might give us as much as a few weeks of time on the Other Side."  
  
"Weeks?" Vaughn demands.  
  
"Which hopefully we won't need," Damon clarifies.   
  
"But we'll have it just in case," Bonnie says.    
  
Vaughn shakes his head, but it’s not as though he has any choice but to follow. He knows what they’re after over there, and he wants it just as much as they do. He’ll keep his mouth shut and play along. For now.  
  
Damon takes advantage of his silence and tells the severely abridged version of the story of the last time he traveled out of this dimension.  
  
“It was several decades ago. I went through the Kimon Gate,” he begins.  
  
“That’s the one outside Sedona, Arizona, right?” Shane asks.  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Why’d you go?” Elena asks, intrigued to hear more details. She knew that he and Stefan had been lots of places, but never would have guessed that he’d gone there.  
  
Damon is quiet for a moment, trying to string together the right words before speaking.   
  
“I’m sorry, you don’t--” Elena apologizes.  
  
“No, no. It was... it was one of my many failed attempts to help my baby brother. Hopefully we’ll have better luck saving the day this time,” he says, squeezing Elena’s hand.   
  
The woods open up, and the bridge stretches ahead over the river. Elena takes the first steps onto it, and the rest of her party follow behind. When she reaches the midpoint--the spot where Elena had almost died twice, and actually died once more--she stops. “What now?” she asks.  
  
Shane pipes in. “You and Damon have free passage as vampires. The rest of us, as humans, have to pay.” He retrieves a knife from his bag, and hands it to Damon.  
  
Damon pulls three lengths of rope from his bag, and looks apologetically at Elena. “Humans have to go as slaves. That’s the only way they’ll be allowed down there without actually dying, which is how they’d normally pay their passage. As their ‘owners’ we’ll have to pay in their stead.”   
  
He hands the knife to Elena, and in turn, ties Bonnie, Vaughn, and Shane’s wrists. He’s gentlest with Bonnie, who watches stoically.   
  
“The currency over there is Power, isn’t it?” asks Elena.   
  
“Yes.”  
  
Without any reservation, Elena pulls the blade through her palm. Damon takes the blade and  mimics her movement. Their blood drips onto the roadway, which ripples like water under a skipping stone. Overcome with sudden vertigo at the sight, Elena grips Damon’s arm with her free hand.   
  
“Passage for five,” he says. In reply, the air in front of them crackles, and the light in that spot alone dims menacingly. “Open sesame,” he adds under his breath.  
  
One by one, they walk into the dim unknown.


	8. Resistance

Elena emerges from the crackling Gate and immediately raises a hand in front of her eyes to block out the light. As her friends come through behind her, one at a time, they make similar gestures and squint into the crimson dusk.  
  
The red, bloated sun is twice as large as she’s used to, and hovering just above the western horizon, though she’s certain it was still midday when they left Mystic Falls. It casts long, lean shadows behind them onto the Wickery Bridge, where it still ripples like water as they pass through the barrier between dimensions. The dim bloodred light casts everything in shades from persimmon to rust, each color taking on a strange ruddy glow on this side.  
  
After the light, Elena notices the smell, and is suddenly sorry for her vampire nose, which tastes salt, smog, and sulfur on the air above the water. They each glance around to get their bearings, and discover the difference on this side, aside from the flaming sunset, is an enormous wooden tall ship anchored on Willow River. Its sails are dirty and orange, but hang stoic and unmoving from the elaborate mast system.  
  
“I hate boats,” Damon quips. “Figures.”  
  
“Do we have to ride that?” Bonnie asks dubiously  
  
“Knowing my luck,” Damon answers. “Let’s find out.”  
  
He hikes the duffel higher on his shoulder, and walks confidently to the end of the bridge to confront the ferryman. “We need to get to the City of Dusk. This our ride?”  
  
The ferryman nods silently.  
  
“All aboard,” Damon calls. “I hope someone brought pennies.”  
  
Shane rustles around in his bag and retrieves a coin purse. “Packed some just in case.” He drops a handful of coins--more than required--into the ferryman’s ghostly pink-hued hands.  
  
Bonnie and Vaughn, both of whom have been silent through this exchange, deliberately do not make eye contact with the ferryman as they step tentatively aboard.  
  
The ferryman’s face is blank, like a mannequin, but one that’s been taken to a flame: melting and malleable, with an oily film that she might’ve mistaken for plasticine were it not for her keen vampire vision. The outline of lips, but no furrow between them; the jut of an idea of a nose; and eyes, real eyes, with shallow, empty grey irises and wide pupils, milky white with cataracts.  
  
She doesn’t even realize she’s stopped to stare until Damon’s fingers close protectively around her shoulders, leading her on, steadying her on the slippery pine planks. She leans into him, knowing that, as usual, they’ll keep each other grounded through whatever this place might demand of them.  
  
“I already don’t like it here,” she says quietly to Bonnie, reluctantly swallowing the disgusting air deep into her lungs.  
  
“Me neither,” her friend agrees. “We should never have come. It feels _wrong_.”  
  
Elena shivers at Bonnie’s words, feeling their truth in her bones. She fans at her face, trying to pass it off as a shiver at the increase in temperature on this side. She wonders whether there are seasons here like those back home.  
  
The ship lurches forward, and the party huddles close together in the balmy, rancid air. The falls, spewing sulfur and water, loom ahead, and the ship heads straight for them. Damon wraps one arm protectively around Elena by habit, and the other around Bonnie by conscious choice. He’d never be able to thank her enough for backing them up on this trip.  
  
As they pass under the falls, an invisible barrier around the ship prevents them from being doused. And on the other side, a new world emerges, and they’ve obviously traveled much farther than the few hundred yards from the bridge.  
  
An enormous valley unfolds beyond the mountaintop marina where they dock. Elena takes Bonnie’s roped wrists with a muttered apology, and Damon takes Shane and Vaughn--who clearly opposes such treatment, but doesn’t protest out loud at least. Damon sends up his thanks for that to whatever might be listening in that dusky sky.  
  
“We need to find shelter near the city,” Damon says.  
  
“I’ll get to work translating as soon as we get there,” Shane agrees.  
  
Level after level of life, each fascinating and yet at times repulsive, stretch down into the valley as they descend. Once upon a time, Elena volunteered at local homeless shelters and soup kitchens, but nothing in Mystic Falls ever prepared her for the poverty and squalor of the Other Side. Bonnie looks resolutely ahead, unflinching.  
  
The only sign that she’s anything but calm are the goosebumps across her chest.  
  
At the first level, filthy children beg and meat merchants swindle, travelers with soiled skin and tattered clothing wander aimlessly beyond. At the next level, a large, diverse crowd gathers around a series of stages small enough for three. It takes a moment for it all to knit together in Elena’s mind: each platform hosts a vampire master, a human slave, and an auctioneer.  
  
Damon picks up his pace, eager to get through this district without being noticed. He doesn’t need anyone taking a second look at his charges and realizing they aren’t as human as he intends the ropes to indicate. Shane, unfortunately, doesn’t take the hint, and continues to stare, fascinated, at everyone they pass.  
  
“Eyes down, slaves,” Damon says pointedly at them.  
  
“Damon,” Elena interrupts.  
  
As discreetly as he can manage, he sneaks in a whisper. “We need to be as unremarkable as _supernaturally_ possible.”  
  
Shane hears, and dips his head to stare at the packed mud underfoot.  
  
Two levels from the city center, and thankfully three from the slave market, Damon stops. “I think we should start here. Any dissenters?” He looks to Shane for guidance, and he shrugs in response.  
  
“Good as anywhere.”  
  
One of the many grime-covered street children hovering about point the way to a shabby brick inn several blocks west of the main road into town. They pay for two adjoining rooms and board, and climb the stairs in silence. When they reach their rooms, Damon stares daggers at the inn matron, who has taken too much of an interest.  
  
“Finally,” Bonnie says as they shut the doors behind them. She reaches into her bag to retrieve a sage smudge stick.  
  
“Bonnie Bennett, genius,” Shane compliments as she lights it.

* * *

“This will let us speak freely without being heard,” Bonnie explains. “So what now?”  
  
Moving beside her, Vaughn sits in one of the chairs that surround the small table in the humans’ room. He unbuttons his shirt.  
  
“What now is someone explains this to me,” he says, gesturing toward his chest.  
  
Taking the cue, Shane extracts a sketchpad, a thick, felt-tipped Sharpie, and several pencils from his bag. “I have part of it drawn, and the key.”  
  
“Key?” Elena asks, taking the familiar notebook Damon hands her. Her journal. She meets his eyes and mouths her thanks.  
  
Damon listens with one ear while he unpacks the rest of the contents of the bag into a tiny chest of drawers.    
  
“Yes. A few decades ago, I was travelling and tracing the origins of voodoo in Africa, and met a witch named Tanielle. She knew about the Brotherhood--one of her ancestors had passed down a grimoire that had a lot of information in it.”  
  
“Do you think it belonged to the witch who made them?” Bonnie wonders.  
  
“There’s no way to be sure, now, but that would make sense,” Shane replies. “Anyway, it said the mark could only be decoded by the Hunter’s sword, which was meant to be passed down the generations.”  
  
“I never saw any sword,” Vaughn warns.  
  
“Right. The original Five, I discovered, had all been killed by a single vampire.”  
  
“Klaus,” Damon interjects.  
  
“By Niklaus, yes. And the swords were lost.”  
  
“But you found them, didn’t you?” Bonnie asks, admiration evident.  
  
Shane’s eyes slide to Bonnie’s, and he smiles.  
  
“One of them.”  
  
“That’s all we need,” Elena adds. “Where is it?”  
  
“Not here, unfortunately. But I drew it, and all its markings. I’m hoping it will be enough.”  
  
“You brought us here on a _hope_?!” Damon asks.  
  
“Did we really have any other choice?” Shane answers, pragmatic in the face of Damon’s anger.  
  
Stumped, he relents. “If we fail, I will _eat_ you.”  
  
Elena rolls her eyes. “Enough fighting. Can we just get on with it?” At the mention of eating, though, she remembers it’s been a few days since she’s had any blood. She mentions as much to Damon, and they venture out into the strange city sprawled below.  
  


* * *

Days later, over a bowl of tasteless grains, Shane continues to take meticulous notes on Vaughn’s mark, which he has helpfully drawn on with the Sharpie so everyone can see it. It contains several maps, Shane discovers, not _one_.  
  
“His hand, that’s the key. If he places it here--” Shane points to his left pectoral muscle, “It creates one set of images. But then if he moves it here--” he says, pointing to his left oblique, “It creates another. See there? The small ellipse on his hand matches up to several smaller ellipses elsewhere, indicating another map.”  
  
“So which is it? Which map is the right one?” Bonnie asks.  
  
“Here,” Damon says, pointing. “The highest, where the symbol above is a sun, half-set.”  
  
Elena looks out the window at the swollen red sun. In the days that they’ve spent in this grim hotel room, they’ve discovered that the sun never finishes setting. It also never rises. It just lays there, clinging to the horizon, unmoving. She’s never been so thankful for blackout curtains in her life.  
  
“It’s the symbol for the City of Dusk, isn’t it?” she asks, though she knows the answer.  
  
“Yes,” Damon answers. “This place is the highest of the Dark Dimensions. I don’t even know how many are below it. But I’d guess at least a few, given the volume of ink on Heracles over there.”  
  


* * *

Another few days later, when Elena and Damon have gone to feed again, Shane lights another sage stick and turns to Bonnie and Vaughn.  
  
“I think I’ve figured it out.”  
  
“Really?” Bonnie asks, relieved. “We should pack so we’re ready to go once Damon and Elena get back.”  
  
“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Shane says tentatively. “Bonnie, I’m not sure taking them is a good idea.” Bonnie has no idea where this has come from, and only looks at him skeptically. He continues. “It’s just... Whoever gets this cure, it’s going to be extremely dangerous and valuable. That’s why we came instead of Klaus, right? What makes giving it to Elena and Damon any better?”  
  
“You did not just compare my best friend to a mass-murdering sociopath.”  
  
Shane sighs. “That’s not what I meant.”  
  
“Then what did you mean exactly?” she asks defiantly.  
  
“Just that--and I’m sure they’re good people--but as long as you’ve known them, when have they ever had the greater good at heart?”  
  
Something in what he says clicks in Bonnie’s heart. It’s the reason she agreed all those months ago to let Klaus think he killed her--because it’s what was best for everyone. All along, Damon has always put Elena’s safety first. Elena has always put her friends’ safety first.  
  
No one had ever just done the _right_ thing. No one except Bonnie.  
  
“Also, I think that being escorted by vampires into a city full of witches is probably not the first impression we want to make.”  
  
“Witches?” Bonnie asks, watching suspiciously as Shane’s face contorts into a grin.  
  
“Come see what I’ve deciphered. Start with the symbol on his hand--it matches the symbols on the sword. At first I thought the spindles were meant to represent the Five themselves, but there are three spindles, not five. Then I wondered whether these represent people, but not the Hunters, necessarily, and it began to make sense. These two that cross are a male and female, witch and warlock. The third, male, but more than human. See the extra lines?”  
  
Bonnie and Vaughn, who’s chosen to stand, both nod. “That’s us,” Vaughn guesses.  
  
“Exactly,” Shane says, relieved. “ _We’re_ the pilgrims who’ll journey forth to retrieve the cure, starting here.” He points to the City of Dusk symbol. “From here, the image that takes shape when his hand overlaps it is Death leading the woman, bound, here.” His fingers ghost over the paper and land on a collection of five-pointed stars.  
  
“And that’s supposed to mean witches?” Arms across his chest, Vaughn is clearly dubious.  
  
“The five-pointed star is a common historical symbol for witchcraft,” Bonnie says patiently. “And it makes sense that there would be a diaspora of them here--my grams told me once that they make the rules on the Other Side; it wouldn’t surprise me to know that they’re jailers as well.”  
  
“Does that mean we’ll do this my way?” Shane inquires.  
  
“Hey, wherever there’s the option, I’m always going choose _not_ working with vampires,” Vaughn votes, looking to Bonnie.  
  
“I won’t lie to them,” she negotiates. “I did once, and it cost a lot of lives.”  
  
“Damon won’t go for it. He won’t trust us.” For only having met him recently, Vaughn seems to have gained a fairly keen understanding of Damon. “Not that I trust him either, but...”  
  
Bonnie would never admit it to either of them, but she trusts Damon more than she trusts either of the men in her company now. She knows, deep in her bones, that they both have ulterior motives. She will find out what they are, and she will be the one to exact judgment if necessary.  
  
“He doesn’t need to agree. We just have to find a way to separate ourselves,” Bonnie says. “But they _will_ know the plan. I won’t have anyone getting stuck down here.”  
  
She smudges out the burning sage.  
  


* * *

Their opportunity comes the following day. As they suspected, Damon vetoes the plan outright, insisting that they stay together. The trio pretends to relent, and they all pack up their meager belongings and set out into the persistent red twilight.  
  
The small party descends on foot toward the city. Bonnie waits until they pass near a sizable crowd, and meets the eyes of both Vaughn and Shane in turn, ensuring they’re ready. Vaughn hitches his bag higher on his shoulder, and Shane gives a nearly-imperceptible nod.  
  
Bonnie reaches out into the crowd with her mind, searching for a mark. She hopes desperately that Damon won’t kill whoever she chooses--whatever death means in a place like this--and her heart races with fear. But one mind, darker than the ones around it, takes form a few yards away. She sees the shape of viciousness in it, and nudges the man’s mind toward herself as they pass.  
  
 _Go ahead_ , she suggests. _You want her. The girl with the dark skin and warm eyes. Her Masters will never be able to protect her from_ you, she adds.  
  
Bonnie watches as the man stands and approaches. Damon is distracted with the next line of directions, and in a moment, all hell--quite literally--breaks loose.  
  
The man grabs Bonnie by the arm, ripping at the sleeve of her shirt. She pushes him away, crying out to Damon and Elena, but his grip is tight. She kicks at him, hoping that someone steps in, because he is much stronger than she is. He attacks again, this time pulling at the neckline of her scoop-neck, exposing the lace underneath. She can’t stop him without her hands free.  
  
The entire street, packed with slaves and masters, merchants and buyers, some homeless and some in finery, erupts in shouts, egging on the fight. A child clings to her mother’s apron-strings, while another struggles to break free of her grip to join the crowd.  
  
Damon drops his bag and rushes back to Bonnie. He doesn’t think twice before securing an arm around the man’s jaw, snapping it hard to the side, and ruthlessly tossing the body back into the alley it came from.  
  
Elena is right behind him, fangs prominent and still hissing.  
  
“Are you okay, Bonnie?” Damon asks, pulling her ropes free to check her all over.  
  
“Did he hurt you?” Elena adds.  
  
“No, but they might,” she replies, looking at several angry people in the crowd surrounding them.  
  
Two come forward, eager to try where the dead man failed. Luckily for Bonnie, they’re both vampires, and her hands are now free. Before they make it five feet, she has them both wailing and falling to their knees on the cobblestones, aneurysm after aneurysm bursting and then knitting together again.  
  
“Witch!” someone in the crowd cries, and the whispers spread.  
  
Damon realizes what she’s done, exposing herself, and knows the danger she put herself in for this.  
  
“Bonnie, go. We’ll hold them back until the police get here,” he says desperately, boring holes into her eyes with his own. “You’d better _pray_ we can pay the price for this.”  
  
She nods, and she, Vaughn, and Shane disappear into the dark alley to take another road while Damon and Elena hold the crowd back.  
  


* * *

What passes for police arrive within moments, and they take both Elena and Damon into custody. Damon has the good sense not to struggle, but it’s in Elena’s nature now to fight back.  
  
 _At least they threw us into adjacent holding cells_ , he thinks to himself as the iron doors clank shut.  
  
“Y’okay, ‘Lena?” he asks.  
  
“Yeah. You?”  
  
“Peachy,” he says, noises strangling out of his throat as he snaps his shoulder back into its socket.  
  
“What happened back there?” Elena demands.  
  
“I _think_ Bonnie found a way to provoke the attack so she could expose herself as a witch. There’s a penalty down here for holding a witch as a slave. And for murder, unfortunately.”  
  
“So we’d be taken away and they could follow through with the plan they pitched yesterday,” she intuits. “What do we do?”  
  
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t foresee any daring 007 escape scenes in our near future,” he says, his voice stretching as he pulls futilely at the bars.  
  
“You know, I’m really getting sick of being locked up.”  
  
Damon sighs. “Shouldn’t be for long. One thing I’ll say about this place--no one ever dies on death row.”  
  
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”  
  
He sighs again. “No, I’m--” he stutters. “I’m just annoyed at Bonnie, and taking it out on you. Sorry.”  
  
“I am too. And Shane. You _know_ this wasn’t her idea.”  
  
“I’m gonna eat him. Or kiss him, if his deranged plan works.”  
  
She laughs at that, and he’s pleased to be the one to turn her mood around.  
  
“But seriously,” he says. “I don’t think this will be a big deal. We’ll probably just be fined.”  
“And then what?”  
  
“I suppose,” he answers, and she can practically hear his eyes rolling, “we’ll go along with the rest of the plan. Go back to the inn. Try to get any information we can in the meanwhile. Watch out for news of Klaus coming through a Gate. Wait for them to get back.”  
  
“Great,” she says sarcastically. “Because I love being useless.”  
  
“You and me both,” he agrees. He settles back on his heels, and feels something crackle in his back pocket. He reaches to pull out a sheet of paper, and unfolds it, not remembering putting it back there. “What the--”  
  
There’s a collection of nonsense words written in Caroline’s handwriting, and for a moment, Damon wonders if sending it across dimensions garbled the words.  
  
“What?” Elena asks.  
  
“Caroline sent a message, but I can’t read it,” he says, desperately trying to make sense of the strange symbols on the page.  
  
Elena laughs. “Here, give it to me.” He passes it through the bars. “When we were in middle school, the three of us made up a language so we could pass notes in class without teachers being able to read them. We thought we were so clever.”  
  
“You rebel,” he says with an admiring half-smile. “What’s it say, Rizzo?”  
  
 _You guys left just in time! Shit hit the fan as soon as you left! This day has felt never-ending at times. I only just sat down to write this._  
  
“We left a week ago, and it’s still the same day there? You weren’t kidding,” Elena comments.  
  
“Fortunately.”  
  
 _Tyler and Hayley came through with the unsired hybrids. Managed to stall Klaus for a little while, but he’s pissed. Like, way more than his normal-pissed._  
  
 ~~ _Maybe it_~~  
 ~~ _If you can, I think_~~  
  
 _I’m not really sure what he’s capable of at the moment. Even Rebekah was scared when she saw him._  
  
 _Be careful around Shane_  
  
“That must be why it’s in code,” Elena deduces.  
  
 _Be careful around Shane, seriously. Damon was right, Matt and April found an encrypted email from him to Pastor Young about the fire. Shane knew that he’d have to go to the Other Side to get the cure! He sent the Council to their deaths so that they could travel ahead and find it while he found a witch to open a Gate for him. It was his Plan B if Connor never finished his mark._  
  
“Fuck, I knew that little shit was hiding something. What does he want it for though?” Damon asks.  
  
“There’s more,” Elena says, scanning ahead.  
  
 _Jeremy is fine, but shaken. He escaped while Klaus was attempting to slaughter his own hybrids, and he’s hiding at April’s with Matt and Rebekah. He’s only tried to kill her once so far!_  
  
 _Stefan made it back today, too. He’s not okay. But I’m completely on top of it, promise._  
  
 _Love you! Get home safe!_  
  
Damon and Elena are quiet for a long while, relief and fear warring in both their hearts. Elena does her best to make sure Damon can’t hear her crying, but fails. Through the gap between the bars, he holds her with one arm and strokes her hair with the other.  
  
He doesn’t try to shush her. He wishes he had it in him to cry.  
  
“I hate that we can’t be there,” she manages.  
  
“We’re doing what we can to keep them safe.”  
  
“Are we? Being here is what put Klaus over the edge. What if he--”  
  
“We shouldn’t think about what ifs,” Damon says, voice firm. “All we can do is focus on what we need to get done here, and get back as quickly as we can.”  
  
“If coming here just to find a cure for me puts everyone there in jeopardy, is it really worth it?”  
  
He chooses his words carefully. “Some of us were allowed a choice, but you weren’t. You should get to make it. It’s not just about you, though. If we find the cure, we could let everyone who didn’t choose this life finally decide for themselves.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah. _And_ we could charge an in _sane_ ly high price for it. Think of the profit!” he jokes. He can’t be sure, but he thinks he feels a chuckle bubble up in her chest, which is what he was going for.  
  
The outside door creaks open, and Damon tightens his hold on Elena. One of the vampire policemen who arrested them enters.  
  
“You, girl. You will face the judges Aiakos, Minos, and Rhadamanthys on the charge of fraud. And you,” the man says, grinning evilly, “you face charges of inciting a riot and murder. Say your goodbyes,” he finishes, pulling Elena, struggling, from her cage.  
  
Damon doesn’t know how long it takes him to stop screaming for her.  


* * *

Elena’s mind works as quickly as she can push it to. Those names sounded familiar, if only she could place them! Greek names. She thinks back to sophomore English, when they briefly covered Virgil and Homer.  
  
 _Judges,_ the man had said. That’s it! Judges of the dead, she remembers. Minos the judge, Rhadamanthys the sentencer, and Aiakos, who holds the keys to the dimensions above and below. She racks her brain for a way to get Minos on her side, but comes up empty as the policeman pushes her onto her knees at the foot of the judges’ thrones.  
  
She casts her eyes down in prayer as they enter, silent, through the side door of the black, lantern-lit dungeon.  
  
“Elena?!” a female voice calls out unexpectedly. “How are you here, child?”  
  
She whips her head up, surprised. “Grams!”  
  
Sheila Bennett pulls Elena to her feet and into a crushing hug, and Elena begins to cry again, this time with such relief as she’s never felt. She returns the hug with as much strength as is safe.  
  
“How did you get here?” she asks again as they separate. “And why are you a vampire?” she adds disapprovingly.  
  
“It was an accident,” Elena begins. “But I didn’t _die_ die, we came through a Gate.”  
  
“A Gate? How?” another familiar voice asks. “And who is _we_?”  
  
“Esther,” Elena realizes, her voice infused with more malice than she thought herself capable.  
  
“Who’s we, dear? We need to know,” Sheila says. She coaxes Elena’s gaze back to hers.  
  
“Damon and Bonnie, one of the Brotherhood of the Five, and a supposedly thousand-plus-year-old occult historian who was our guide. Are you the judges, Grams? You and Esther? I thought--the man who arrested us gave you other names.”  
  
“Those are more like job titles,” a voice says as the third judge comes through the courtroom door.  
  
Elena’s heart skips a beat. She can’t bear to face that voice, but she cannot stop her feet from turning toward him. Her fingers, trembling, fly to her mouth in disbelief.  
  
“Ric?” she whispers.  
  
He smiles at her, and she beams back. _Everything will be all right now,_ she realizes.  
  
He opens his arms to her, and she nearly trips over her own feet to get to him. Thoughts race through her mind again, and she talks as fast as she can. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened to you because of me! I never meant--but Damon! We need to get Damon and we can sort all this out--”  
  
“Whoa, slow down,” he says, laughing. He pulls away from her. “You don’t have to apologize, Elena. For me, that was all... a long time ago. I’ve made peace. For the most part,” he adds, shooting a glare toward Esther.  
  
“Oh, do stop, Alaric,” Esther insists. “Help the girl calm herself. There’s obviously more to the story, and she’s likely to continue her fit unless we retrieve her mate.”  
  
“Mate?” Alaric mouths to Elena. He hasn’t been topside in a few months, so he missed that development.  
  
Elena beams and shrugs one shoulder. Ric nods his approval, and she feels warmth blossom, deep in her chest.  
  
Together, they all tread back toward the holding cells. Elena can hear Damon still weakly calling for her. She bursts in through the door.  
  
“Oh, thank God, Elena! What happened, what’s--”  
  
“Damon!” she replies, heart fluttering again. “I brought you a surprise.”  
  
Esther unlocks the cell door and steps back to let Damon stand and exit. He peers around the Original witch and stops, mid-step.  
  
The tears he couldn’t find earlier well up in his eyes.  
  
Ric envelops Damon in a hug, slapping his back a few times and laughing like he’s just remembered how. He pulls back to grasp Damon by the shoulders.  
  
“I have bad news, brother,” Ric says. “The bourbon on this side _sucks_.”


	9. Warnings

Not quite sure that he shaken the smell--or delicious memory--of Katherine from his skin, Stefan nevertheless resigns himself to sniffing out Jeremy and Klaus’s camp. A woman he picked up along the way follows somewhere nearby.  
  
“Stefan! Lovely, you’ve caught up.”  
  
“Couldn’t have you torturing Jeremy without me.”  
  
“Nonsense,” Klaus says, slapping Jeremy on the back. “He’s my new best mate, isn’t that right? Next to you, of course, ripper.”  
  
Jeremy shrugs Klaus’s arm off his shoulder and refocuses on his sketchbook, filled now with fewer nightmares-- _thank God_ \--and more undulating tree roots and indecipherable symbols.  
  
“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Jeremy. I thought we managed a bit of fun together! No?” Klaus grins. He turns back to Stefan and shrugs. “Teenagers. Did you finish up at the house?”  
  
Stefan nods. “Only because you asked so _nicely_ ,” he replies sarcastically, eliciting a short peal of laughter from Klaus.   
  
All three men turn to the nearing sound of someone approaching. “Hey! Wait up, Stefan,” a woman calls. Her flame-red hair just brushes her shoulders as she climbs to their small camp. “Where’d--oh. Hi,” she says, unsure now that she’s faced with more than her blond companion.  
  
“It’s okay, Shannon,” Stefan reassures her, motioning her forward.  
  
“Sheena,” she corrects.  
  
“Whatever.” Stefan takes her by the hand and turns to Klaus. “I brought lunch.”   
  
Klaus laughs again, happier than he’s been in a long while. He claps one hand against Stefan’s neck. “This is marvelous, isn’t it? Best friend returned to form, Jeremy’s mark finished and hours from having my doppelganger back, and a few short days from an unstoppable army of hybrids. I can’t think of a thing more to improve my mood, and then you bring me my favorite? How I do love a ginger.”  
  
Jeremy looks like he’s about to be sick. Stefan pulls a sandwich out of his duffel and tosses it to him. “Can’t have the map man starving to death,” he explains, his deadpan humor amusing only himself.  
  
Stefan compels the girl to stay quiet, and sinks into the right side of her throat from behind. Beside him, Klaus smiles wide, and sinks into her left, his hand reaching up to tangle in Stefan’s hair, locking them together over their meal.  
  
It takes only moments for them to drain all her resistance.  
  
-  
  
“Dude, what are you even doing?” Jeremy whispers to Stefan while Klaus speaks angrily into his phone.   
  
Stefan rolls his eyes. “What I’ve been doing the whole time,” he explains. “Only with a spring in my step now,” he adds with a disturbing, closed-mouth grin.  
  
“You make me sick. I don’t even know what my sister sees in you, if this is what you really are.”  
  
“You know, I have asked that question many times myself, and have yet to come up with an answer. But she just keeps running back to me. D’you think it’s a self-esteem problem?” Stefan looks at Jeremy expectantly.   
  
Unable to stop himself, Jeremy looses a swift left hook across Stefan’s chin. Stefan recovers quickly, rubbing the spot Jeremy hit and laughing genuinely.  
  
“You’ve got spunk! I like it,” Stefan says, like they’re just two buddies playing at sparring. “You might survive yet,” he judges, and saunters out of the brush to the car.  
  
“I look forward to dealing with him later,” Klaus threatens menacingly into the phone. He pockets it swiftly. “You girls work out your differences, then?”  
  
Jeremy ignores him, and joins Stefan at the car, Klaus in tow.  
  
“Lovely. We’ll be in Mystic Falls in a few hours. We’ll pick up the sword and the doppelgänger and be on our way as soon as I’ve dealt with some hybrid business. ‘The mice will play’ et cetera,” Klaus says by way of explanation. “Come along.”  
  
“D--did you just use a cat metaphor?” Stefan stutters, laughing. “Seems like the wrong kind of irony,” he continues, and Klaus narrows his eyes. “Just saying, I think you’re losing your edge, there, Duchess.”  
  
“And you should leave the witty nicknames to your brother. _He’s_ the clever one.”  
  
“Aw, I’m sorry, did I hurt your wolfy feelings?”  
  
“What are you two, six? Drive already,” Jeremy commands.  
  
-  
  
As they pass over Wickery Bridge into town, the tension in the car thickens. They all know their goal is close, and a strange combination of glee, terror, and apprehension lay over them like fog.  
  
“Jeremy, you’ll be a dear and retrieve your sister,” Klaus instructs as he stops in front of the Gilberts’. “Stefan will get Damon as well. Can’t have him roaming about, scheming. Better to have him where I can watch him. And I’d just hate to deprive Elena of her burgeoning love while we search,” he adds cruelly, his eyes never leaving Stefan’s. “Come to the mansion when you’ve secured them. I’ll meet you there when I’ve finished scolding the children.”  
  
Klaus drives off, leaving Jeremy and Stefan staring after him.  
  
“So, do we have a plan?” Jeremy asks.  
  
“Yeah, there’s a plan,” he replies, and Jeremy sighs in relief. “We do what he says.”  
  
“What? No!”  
  
“Yes, Jeremy. We get them. We find the cure. Elena takes it. Klaus gets what he wants, but at least she’ll be alive.”  
  
Jeremy recognizes when arguing with Stefan has become futile. He needs backup, so he waves Stefan off.  
  
He searches the house, but it’s clearly empty. A quick call to Elena’s phone goes straight to voicemail; Damon’s too. His third call, to Matt, is more successful.  
  
 _“Jer, where are you?”_  
  
“Home. Away from Klaus for now. Where is everyone?”  
  
 _“We’re all holed up at April Young’s house. It’s the only place that isn’t open to every vampire in town.”_  
  
“I’ll be there in a few.”  
  
 _“Be safe.”_  
  
-  
  
When Jeremy arrives at April’s, he passes Rebekah, who’s curled up on the porch swing with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She never breaks her stare into the mountains.   
  
He crosses the threshold and scans the front rooms of the Pastor’s house. “You said everyone was here, Matt. Where are Damon and my sister? And Bonnie?” Jeremy demands.  
  
Matt, Caroline, and April all share a look. Caroline is the first to stand from her seat at the dining table.  
  
“Don’t be mad, Jeremy--”  
  
“Too late. Where are they?”  
  
“That Hunter you sent, he got here last night. And they left, pretty much right away. To find it,” Caroline clarifies.  
  
Jeremy is relieved to hear that Vaughn made it here all right, and that he got safely out of dodge before Klaus got wind of him. “Who’s they?”  
  
“Elena and Damon went with him, and they took Shane, who pretended to know how to decode the Mark,” April says, an edge in her voice.  
  
“ _Pretended_?” Jeremy asks. “So they have no idea where they’re going?”  
  
“No, they do.” April turns the laptop on the dining room table toward Jeremy, who scans the screen quickly. “We found this--Shane thought he knew where the cure was already. He didn’t need a Hunter with a Mark to get it.”  
  
“So then why...?”  
  
“He needed a witch to get them there, Jer,” Matt explains.  
  
“Bonnie.” Jeremy’s heart sinks. “He took Bonnie.”  
  
Caroline nods. “They left this morning.”  
  
“What does he want with the cure, anyway? What’s it to him?”  
  
“We’re still looking through my dad’s stuff to find out. But we know that he went to a lot of trouble to find it. Twelve homicides and a week of witch-hypnosis kind of trouble.”  
  
Jeremy feels even more helpless than he did last night, if that were possible. “And we have no way to warn them.”   
  
Caroline smiles mischievously. “Bonnie’s smarter than that,” she says, and waves a blank sheet of paper in the air.  
  
“What’s that?” Jeremy asks.  
  
“An insurance policy,” Caroline replies, and uncaps an inkpen.  
  
-  
  
Bonnie ducks into an alleyway to remove the remaining ropes from her wrists, and Shane and Vaughn follow.  
  
“Which way?” Vaughn asks.  
  
“Bonnie, you should be able to sense them. Open your mind to the Power of witches here. They’re your family, you can find them,” Shane encourages her.  
  
She closes her eyes, and searches through the mental fingerprints nearby. Slowly, she sends out tendrils, adjusting north and east as the remnants of Power get more and more familiar.   
  
“This way,” she says, and reluctantly takes ownership of their ropes.  
  
-  
  
She has the strangest sensation, when they reach the forbidding iron gate, that she has come home. When she touches the gate, it swings open of its own accord. The men queue behind her, feeling only unease at the enormous structure before them.  
  
“It’s okay,” Bonnie reassures them, and bends down to pick a few sprigs of the herb growing like a weed between the cracks in the walkway. “This is where we’re meant to be,” she says, handing one to each of them.  
  
Shane brings it to his nose and smiles. “Vervain.”  
  
“How does this stuff even grow under this poor excuse for sunlight?” Vaughn asks, twisting the stem as though it will reveal some secret.  
  
“Magic,” a voice responds from the front stoop of the mansion, and Vaughn drops the vervain in surprise. He backs up a few paces.  
  
“Come inside, Bonnie. Bring your friends.” Emily turns back inside, not waiting to see if they follow. She knows they will.  
  
As much as they’ve come to realize that nothing in this place is quite as it seems, Bonnie still has to fight slight vertigo as they step inside the house.  
  
“Once upon a time, when the outside of the house was built to match the enormity of the inside, we found that we drew too much attention to ourselves. The vampires sought to challenge our power and gain control of this dimension. We found it more practical to operate out of a small house,” she explains. “Or to _seem_ to, anyway.”  
  
“And what, all y’all live here?” Vaughn asks as he pulls his wrists free of the rope.  
  
“Do _you_ live in a prison?” Emily asks cheekily.  
  
“Sometimes I wonder,” he replies vaguely.  
  
“This is where the Bennett witches work, and in some cases, where they’re imprisoned.”  
  
“You’ve thrown our _family_ into cells?” Bonnie demands.  
  
“You don’t know your own family history well enough, or you wouldn’t ask that,” Emily says. “Bennett witches are our own worst enemies, and we never were good at using magic in moderation. Why do you think so many of us are in this dimension, Bonnie? There hasn’t been a single witch from our line that passed into the Celestial Court.”  
  
“So this is my future? As an inmate or a jailer?”  
  
“We cannot know the future, but perhaps not. I know what you seek here,” Emily says with a serene smile.  
  
“Are you going to help me get it?” Bonnie replies. “Or try to trap me here, like last time?”  
  
“Last time, you were dead. By natural order, you belonged here. There was no malice intended.”  
  
“And now?”  
  
“You are very much alive, and you have an important purpose yet to serve. Fate readjusted to your continued presence.”   
  
“Then tell me what I need to know,” Bonnie demands.  
  
“There is one more test,” Emily says, and motions for Bonnie to follow her.  
  
She scoffs. “Of course there is.”  
  
“Stay here, please,” Emily requests of Shane and Vaughn. “This way, great granddaughter.”  
  
-  
  
A few long minutes later, Emily and Bonnie step out of the shadows. “I have what we need,” Bonnie tells Shane and Vaughn.  
  
Shane looks into her eyes closely, searching. Bonnie smiles at him, the secret they now share electrifying the air between them. He holds back a satisfied, triumphant grin.  
  
“Good. Let’s go,” Vaughn commands. “Not that y’all haven’t been... welcoming, but all these witches in one place creeps me the hell out.”  
  
Emily narrows her eyes at him. “If it weren’t for witches, you wouldn’t have the Power and the mission you do. You’d be a normal, unremarkable human.”  
  
“Yeah, exactly,” he replies.  
  
“Fine,” she says, and pulls out her overburdened key ring. Carefully selecting one, she looks to Bonnie one last time. “Are you ready, great-granddaughter?”  
  
Bonnie hardens her features. “Yes.”  
  
Emily inserts the key into the heavy wooden door, and turns it. When she opens it, they’re looking into the basement of the dilapidated plantation house in Wickery Woods. “Godspeed, then.”  
  
Together, they walk through the door, and it shuts with a thud behind them and disappears.  
  
-  
  
April steps out onto the porch with a blanket under one arm and a tray of tea under the other, and settles on the Adirondack chair next to the swing.   
  
“I hope you like Oolong,” she says as she pours out two cups.  
  
“I do, yes. Thank you,” Rebekah replies, accepting the cup with both hands. “I went to China once. It was my first trip away from my brothers, right after Nik murdered my Alexander.”  
  
“Was he your...?”  
  
“I _thought_ he was, yes. I mourned him in every corner of the Orient after Nik had finished interrogating me. That’s how my brother works. Once he’s wrung whatever usefulness out of me, he discards me, or worse, ignores me.”  
  
“I have about a million cousins--most of the family is Catholic, aside from my dad--but I don’t have any siblings,” April explains.  
  
“Probably better that way.”  
  
“Is it? My dad died, and now I don’t have anyone.”  
  
“Family is like having a bottomless font of disappointment and betrayal.”  
  
“I don’t think human families are much different.”  
  
Rebekah’s head turns at that. “No?”  
  
“No. You love them, and you’d do anything for them, and they piss you off more than you thought possible. You think, _if we weren’t family, we wouldn’t even be friends_ , but when they’re gone...”  
  
“It’s like a piece of you is gone, too,” Rebekah finishes. “Maybe...”  
  
“Maybe what?” April asks, sipping her tea.   
  
“D’you think it’s possible to have friends like that? If you wouldn’t be friends with your siblings, but you love them anyway, can you have friends you love as siblings?”  
  
April thinks for a moment, and the thought fills up a tiny, hollow space within her. “Yeah, I think that’s possible,” she decides.  
  
Rebekah smiles. “Thank you. For the tea.”  
  
April knows she means to convey gratitude for more than just the tea.  
  
-  
  
Ric is whispering to Damon, softer than the witches can hear, but not in a way that suggests he means to hide his words from Elena. His words are sweet and familiar, and far too intimate for Elena to continue to listen in, though. Damon can’t tear his eyes away from Ric, as though he means to re-memorize his face. He doesn’t say anything to his best friend.   
  
Alaric turns back to Elena, hovering near the cell door.  
  
“What happened? All of it, Elena.”  
  
“The night you died... the night we died,” she amends, “I had vampire blood in my system. We didn’t know, it wasn’t intentional.” Elena looks to Sheila, seeking forgiveness, as though this was some slight against her.  
  
“Go on,” she encourages.  
  
“It’s been hard, trying to learn how to not hurt people. Damon’s helping. But a Hunter came to town--”  
  
“One of the Brotherhood of the Five,” Damon clarifies.  
  
“--and we found out that they have a Mark that has a map to a cure for vampirism. But...” Elena can hardly bear to think back on what she did, to admit that she’s a murderer.  
  
“He threatened Jeremy, and Elena protected her family. Exactly as she should have,” Damon insists.  
  
“I murdered him,” Elena says harshly.   
  
“And Little Gilbert was called to be a Hunter instead, thankfully.”  
  
“Is Jeremy here?” Alaric asks, alarmed.  
  
“No, a different Hunter, one Jeremy found and sent to us so that we could come here undetected while he distracts Klaus,” Damon answers.    
  
Esther sighs. “You were not meant to live again, Elena.”  
  
“I wasn’t meant to be a vampire, either.”  
  
“No, you were meant to die in the ritual, and then move on.”  
  
“Pardon me for not following your ‘master plan’ and dying before my 18th birthday like a good little doppelganger,” she replies sarcastically. “Petrova or not, I deserve to have a life.”  
  
Alaric and Damon are both proud of her in that moment.  
  
“Where are the others? Were they taken?” Esther asks, avoiding Elena’s comment.  
  
“No,” Damon answers. “They escaped, and went to find the cure.”  
  
“You have no idea what you may have unleashed!” Sheila cries.   
  
Esther frantically searches through her keyring and selects one. She rushes over to the wooden door they’ve just come through and inserts it.   
  
When she opens the door, Elena is startled to see a different room just beyond the one she was in moments ago. She takes Ric and Damon’s hands and hurries through it behind Esther and Sheila.  
  
“Where are they?” she calls to no one in particular. Several witches turn their heads, and point down a nearby corridor. “Emily Bennett, I should have known it would be you responsible.”  
  
“They are gone already, Esther. Your plan failed, as did Sheila’s. It was time to try a different solution.”  
  
“And there will be immeasurable consequences, Emily.”  
  
“Perhaps. We will find out soon enough,” she says cryptically. “Come, Damon and Elena,  
I will send you home now. You’ll arrive not long after your friends.”  
  
Elena panics, looking back at Ric, and she can see that he’s just as desperate.   
  
“What?” he demands. “Already? But they just--”  
  
“They have to go now,” Sheila insists.  
  
She’s only gotten moments with Alaric, and she has so much to say, so much to share with him still. She looks at Damon helplessly.  
  
“What if--” she starts, but Damon shakes his head.  
  
“Not how it works, Princess. He died. For real died.”  
  
Ric realizes the thoughts and wishes that pass between them, because he’s thought of it too, more than fleetingly, in the years he’s spent on this side. He turns to Elena.  
  
“Be glad we got to see each other for a little while at least. I am. And know,” he says, affectionate and genuine, “that I’m with you. Always.”  
  
“No!” she protests. “Not the way you should be!”  
  
“Don’t make this hard, Elena, please,” Damon pleads under his breath. He embraces Ric, heartbroken but stoic, and tries not to let his tears fall as freely as Elena does.  
  
Sheila distracts Elena while they say their goodbyes. “I need you to pass a message on for me, sweetheart. It’s critical, can you do it?”  
  
Elena sniffles and nods.  
  
“You tell Bonnie that I tried to warn her for a reason. The danger in her magic is real and it will have deadly consequences if she allows herself to be manipulated. You repeat that back to me now.”  
  
When Elena has all the words memorized just so, Sheila releases her shoulders and gives her a tight hug.  
  
Damon can’t even stay once he’s said goodbye to Ric. He walks through the door that Emily opened, not brave enough to look back.  
  
He waits, perched on the same rock where a hundred-forty-odd years ago he became a vampire. When Elena finally falls through a shimmer in the air, he catches her and grips her with a strength he’s never known, and sorrow he knows all too well.  
  
Elena sobs into his sweater for the better part of ten minutes.  
  
“We keep this,” he thinks aloud. “We keep this memory of him just for us.”  
  
Swiping at her tears, Elena nods.  
  
“Caroline’s been texting.”  
  
She stands and holds out her hand, hoping that pretending to be strong will make her feel strong. “Let’s go.”  
  
-  
  
 _“I can’t find Damon or Elena, Klaus. And Jeremy’s gone MIA,”_ Stefan explains into his cell.  
  
“Unfortunately, that’s the least of our troubles right now, mate. I _think_ I might need backup; and since your dance card is unexpectedly empty...” Klaus hints.  
  
Stefan sighs. _“Tell me where you are.”_  
  
“I’m currently in the woods behind my mansion, staring into several pairs of angry hybrid eyes. Given their body language, and the fact that they’re led by the ever-infuriating Tyler Lockwood and his werewolf wench Hayley, I suspect they’re no longer sired to me.”  
  
 _“Fine.”_   
  
“Lovely.”  
  
Klaus slips his phone into his jacket pocket and tries not to make any unnecessary movements. He created these creatures; he knows what they’re capable of.  
  
“And Darius and Melanie?” he asks.  
  
Tyler releases the hybrid he’s got trussed up on his knees. “Dead. This is the only one still left who’s still your bitch. He refused ‘treatment’.”  
  
“That so? Come here, dear.”  
  
The hybrid--Kyle, Klaus remembers--climbs to his feet quickly, rubs his still-bleeding nose against his arm, and hobbles over to his Sire.  
  
“Thank you,” Klaus says genuinely, “for your loyalty.” He strokes Kyle’s hair for a moment, who seems relieved at the affection. “You’ll thank me for this someday,” he whispers, and shoves a fist into Kyle’s chest. It’s less violent a death than the unsired hybrids would have given him.  
  
One final act of mercy. Klaus resolves to show no more.  
  



	10. Assault (part 1)

  
Elena and Damon pull up to the Young house. Caroline must have heard them walking up to the porch, because she’s out the front door before they can knock.  
  
“Oh, my God. Did something go wrong? We thought you wouldn’t be back for days!” she says, incredulous.  
  
“We don’t have a lot of time to explain,” Elena says, “but we were gone for days. Where’s Jeremy?”  
  
“Here,” he says, following closely behind Matt.  
  
At full vampire speed, Elena runs to him and pulls him into a crushing hug. “Are you all right?” she demands, patting his arms, his chest, his face, desperate to be sure he’s really still in one piece. “Jeremy, are you all right?”  
  
“Yeah, geez, I’m fine. Are _you_? Caroline said--”  
  
“Yeah, we’re good,” Damon answers for her. “Happy to be back on the right side of the tracks,” he says, squinting into the sunset. “Not that it really looks any different at the moment.”  
  
“What--”  
  
“Nevermind,” Damon says. “Klaus and Stefan, where are they?”  
  
“I called Tyler, like you said. He was already on his way back with his hybrids,” Caroline replies.  
  
“ _His_ hybrids?” Elena asks.  
  
“Yeah, he and Hayley managed to get most of them unsired,” Caroline explains.  
  
“Klaus’s off dealing with them right now,” Jeremy says. “Stefan was supposed to go to the boarding house and get you, Damon. And I was supposed to get Elena.”  
  
“Where is he, then?”  
  
“He’s not answering any of my calls,” Caroline replies as Stefan’s voicemail picks up, yet again. “He wouldn’t have gone to Klaus, would he?” she asks Jeremy.  
  
“Stefan wouldn’t,” Elena replies.  
  
Jeremy shakes his head. “No, Elena. You didn’t see him. There’s no predicting what he’ll do.”  
  
“Tyler’s hybrids won’t spare Stefan just because he’s our friend,” Caroline realizes. “If he went... he’ll be in danger.”  
  
“Go, Caroline,” Damon commands. “I can’t. I have to see this through.” He fixes her gaze, trying to convey all the things he can’t with words. “I’m trusting you, Caroline. Find my brother and keep him safe.”  
  
“I will,” she says, and runs.

* * *

  
  
“Where are the others? Bonnie and that Vaughn guy?” Matt asks.  
  
“We got separated.” Elena decides on the short version of the story. “But the witches said they came back through before we did, with the cure.”  
  
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Jeremy says. “I’m not exactly sure this cure is what you’re all thinking it is.”  
  
“Jer?”  
  
He has their full attention now, and he draws out his sketchbook for reference. “Since I finished my mark, the nightmares have changed.”  
  
“You’re still having nightmares?” Elena wishes she could make all this stop for her brother. He shouldn’t have a to carry this burden.  
  
“Changed how?” Matt asks.  
  
“The Mark _is_ a map, but nothing I’ve dreamt makes me think it leads to a vampire cure. I think it’s a Hunter’s cure.”  
  
 _In the dream, he can’t tell how he knows, but he’s very dead. And in a place that feels wrong on so many levels, but some instinct propels him on. Past a gate, up to a creepy mansion that reminds him so much of the one in New Orleans that he half expects Klaus to greet him at the door._  
  
 _Instead, it’s a beautiful woman. When she smiles, he wonders what secret it is that dances in her eyes._  
  
 _“You found us. Good. Your journey is almost complete,” she says, guiding him inside. As he steps over the threshold, the Power inside him crystallizes. He can feel the edges of it stretch and contract, suddenly certain it doesn’t belong to him any more._  
  
 _The woman--a witch, he realizes--ushers him into a great hall, bigger than the entire house that contains it, and shuts him in. Without warning, a second woman appears next to him, and takes his hands._  
  
 _“Thank you,” she says, “for your brave work. A long time ago, a great evil was done with the Power inside me, and I have been trying to make it right ever since. Your soul cried out to help, and so I made use of you. You collected the Power, and now you’re here to put it back in its rightful place.”_  
  
 _She lays a hand on his chest, over the spot covered in a collection of tiny five-pointed stars, and draws from it the twisting, churning Power within him._  
  
 _When she finishes, the Mark has vanished from his skin, and he feels like his old self again._  
  
“That’s all I remember,” Jeremy finishes.  
  
Rebekah, safely undetected in the kitchen washing out teacups, can hear this exchange quite well, and reckons she understands it better than any of them. She turns to April, who’s drying, rips the vervain bracelet off her arm, and tosses it on the table.  
  
“I do enjoy your company, darling. You’re going to come with me,” she compels her.  
  
“Okay,” April replies complacently, and follows Rebekah out the back door.

* * *

  
  
“I’m here,” Stefan says to Klaus. “What now, exactly?”  
  
“I was thinking we’d kill them,” Klaus says, matter-of-fact.  
  
“I don’t know. Tyler, what do you think of that plan?” Stefan calls across the lawn.  
  
“He’s welcome to try,” Tyler replies cockily. “But I like my numbers. Whose side are you going to come down on, Stefan?”  
  
“Hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” One of Tyler’s packmates is trembling, curling his fists, ready to fight; Stefan keeps one eye on him, waiting for the inevitable.  
  
“Then why, pray, did you come?” Klaus asks, clearly irritated.  
  
“Not like I had anything better to do,” Stefan answers, and leans against a short pillar. “Might be kinda funny to watch them kick your ass.”  
  
“And somehow, I can’t even pretend to be surprised you’ve turned coat.”  
  
“Come on, Nik. This is your moment! Time to barter for help! I’m nothing if not willing to listen to offers.”  
  
“If you help him, Stefan, I can’t guarantee your safety,” Tyler says. “Don’t be stupid. You wouldn’t last against these guys. Just like _he_ won’t.”  
  
The trembling hybrid Stefan’s been watching seems unwilling to let any more conversation continue, and he explodes with rage, breaking ranks to charge Klaus.  
  
Klaus sets his stance. “Here we go, then,” he says under his breath.  
  
The hybrid attacks, his werewolf claws emerging from elongated fingers. Klaus grabs at both his arms, and twists them back on him, to use the werewolf’s claws to rend open his own neck.  
  
“That won’t kill him,” Stefan says, picking a piece of lint off his tee.  
  
“No,” Klaus says with a smile as the rest of the pack charges. “But this will.” He digs his fingers into the wound and tears the hybrid’s head the rest of the way off.  
  
“Come on, mate. I’ll make it worth your while,” Klaus offers. “Or just stand there and watch me put up a good fight.”  
  
Stefan rolls his eyes and pushes off the pillar. He straightens his shirt and sets his jaw. If they can avoid Tyler, at least, they might live through this. And Caroline’s wrath afterward.

* * *

  
Damon descends the porch steps, and Elena can feel the anger curling off him, like heat. Anger and disappointment. She recognizes it easily enough, as it courses through her own veins.  
  
She takes a deep breath. “Okay, so the cure might not be a cure for me, but it might be a cure for you, Jer. That’s a good thing.”  
  
“But we were all duped by Professor Crazy, who wants it for God knows what, and he currently has it _and_ Bonnie,” Damon reminds her. He turns back to Matt and Jeremy. “We got the message you sent. Did you find anything more specific on Shane’s motives?” Damon asks.  
  
“Not much more than we put in that letter,” Matt says. “I’ll get April to let you guys in, and we can look through the emails.” He disappears inside.  
  
Damon paces furiously, fists in his pockets, trying to calm down. Elena meets him on the bottom step and puts her hands on his shoulders to still him. They share a tense few moments in each other’s eyes.  
  
“This is just the next thing we’ll have survived together,” she says. “We’ll add it to the list.”  
  
“The ever-growing list of our epic failures?” Damon asks dejectedly, and tugs at the hem of her shirt.  
  
Elena cups his face in her hands. “Is it a failure if we can save Jeremy from being a Hunter? What would Ric say to that?”  
  
He sighs, but doesn’t answer.  
  
They can both hear Jeremy shouting for April when Matt comes flying out the door. “She’s gone! Rebekah must have taken April and gone,” he says, holding up her bracelet.  
  
“She was supposed to be ingesting the vervain, Matt!”  
  
“It’s a little hard to come by after most of the town’s supply went up in smoke with the Pastor, Elena. None of us have had any yet today, what with all the commotion.”  
  
“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” Damon says menacingly. “Hopefully the urge to compel you to drop dead will pass.”  
  
Jeremy runs around from the backyard, and points. “They went this way.”  
  
“We’ll track them,” Damon says to Matt. “Hang back, QB. We’re gonna run the wildcat.”  
  
Matt shakes his head, but doesn’t protest.  
  
“Dude, that metaphor doesn’t even make sense,” Jeremy points out.  
  
“No one around here appreciates my humor,” Damon asides.  


* * *

  
Damon takes lead, the best at tracking among them. He makes an effort to stay at a human pace so that Jeremy can keep up, but he knows that Rebekah gets farther away the longer they spend not running at full vamp speed after her.  
  
Just when his patience is about to break, Elena’s phone chirps.  
  
“Bonnie, thank god you’re okay. Where are you?” Elena asks.  
  
 _“At the witches’ burial ground, behind the house. I’m setting up the spell. How soon can you be here?”_  
  
“Jeremy’s with us, so we’ll be a few minutes still. Bon, be careful. Rebekah’s coming to find you and the cure, and she’s not coming at human speed.”  
  
 _“Don’t worry. If she comes, I can handle her. I’ve done it before.”_  
  
Elena hangs up and relays the information to Damon and Jeremy. It’s only a few minutes later that the nagging question in the back of her mind finally takes shape. She stops mid-step, and thinks hard.  
  
“Wait, Damon. When has Bonnie ever fought Rebekah?”  
  
“She hasn’t. Bonnie’s a smart cookie, and she’s stayed as far away from Originals as possible.”  
  
“But on the phone, she said she’d ‘handled’ Rebekah before.”  
  
“Let’s just get to her,” he replies, and picks up his pace.  


* * *

  
At first, Stefan thinks they are holding their own against the wolves.  
  
Tyler wants them all to stop, but his packmates aren’t listening. He hasn’t been alpha for long, and their former slave master wears the blood of a fallen brother. Klaus will get a death sentence, one way or another.  
  
Stefan pulls two hybrids from the outskirts of the pile attempting to attack Klaus, slamming one against a nearby tree and tossing the other a few yards into the forest, where he caroms off his packmate. A third he rips the arms off; a fourth he knees in the back and then twists his neck clean off.  
  
“What are you doing? Stop!” Caroline calls desperately.  
  
Taken by surprise, a wayward wolf charges her, and though Caroline manages a punch to his gut, his fangs seal over her free forearm. She cries out, but finishes the wolf with a second blow before dropping to her knees.  
  
“Caroline!” three voices shout in near-unison.  
  
Distracted, Stefan barely notices when the hybrid he’s fighting sinks claws and fangs into him, too.  
  
“No!” Tyler shouts, and every hybrid stops and obeys.  
  
In the end, it takes four hybrids to restrain Niklaus for the journey back to the Lockwood estate.  
  
Tyler drags Caroline away. She struggles, vehemently protesting being torn from her charge.  
  
And the darkness of the forest is Stefan’s only remaining companion.  


* * *

  
Full dark has settled across the dilapidated property when Jeremy, Elena, and Damon arrive, save for the small fire Bonnie and Shane lit in the clearing behind the house. It throws eerie shadows against the trees, and reminds Elena too much of the first time she died.  
  
Vaughn, standing sentinel, tenses at the sound of the newcomers, but relaxes when he sees Jeremy.  
  
“Glad you made it,” Jeremy says.  
  
“You too, brother,” Vaughn replies.  
  
“Enough flirting. Bonnie...” Damon refocuses the conversation to interrupt her chanting over a grimoire. She opens her eyes and quiets. “You got the cure from the witches?”  
  
Bonnie nods.  
  
“Is it a vampire cure? Or a Hunter cure?” Elena asks. “Jer said--”  
  
“Both were my spells,” Bonnie replies. “But I will not cure the Hunters. There will still be work for them to do when we finish.”  
  
“Speak English, Sabrina. What’s that supposed to mean, both were your spells?” Damon interjects.  
  
“Damon,” Jeremy warns him, pulling Elena a few steps back from the fire. “That’s not Bonnie.”  
  
“Don’t worry,” the-thing-that’s-not-Bonnie says. “Bonnie is fine, but she’s not the one who can work the spell we need right now. I am.”  
  
“And just who in hell are you?” Damon demands.  
  
“Ayana,” Rebekah replies, entering the clearing from the opposite side, behind Vaughn. He turns, quick as a flash, but it’s not fast enough. A serene smile spread across her face, Rebekah reaches into his stomach and rips out a handful of red and warm.  
  
He falls, dying without a sound besides the thud of denim, cotton, and flesh against dirt.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I have a finite well of give-a-crap, and classes this quarter take up most of it. Also, I made the epic, glorious mistake of joining tumblr. Whoops. It's looking like next chapter will be the end, folks. Thanks for reading!


End file.
